


Mirror Twin

by toxic_corn



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Gaslighting, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-01-16 19:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 75,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21276197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxic_corn/pseuds/toxic_corn
Summary: When Brahms wakes from Greta nearly fatally stabbing him, he finds his evil cousin Ben and his girlfriend Lilah have taken up residence in the house. They're in no hurry to leave and plan to continue keeping Brahms confined to the Heelshire mansion. However, Brahms is determined to go out into the world to find the woman he's been dreaming of since he was a child, someone he could have been with in another life...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it's November, NaNoWrimo time! This story's been lurking in my head since mid-September and like always, I have a vague idea of where I want this to go but nothing etched in stone at this point. An AU of The Spirit of Heelshire Manor but this time around Penny isn't dead. Woo hoo? Of course, that isn't going to make things much easier for Brahms because I have a lot of obstacles for him to get through in order for him to even FIND Penny. Here we go!

Unspeakable, excruciating pain screamed through Brahms's body as Greta dug the screwdriver deeper into his innards then up. She tore through tissue and muscle and he didn't know what else as he gasped and hit the ground. His mask shattered on impact and she stared in horror at the ruin of the exposed part of his face. Of course it had to be that side. He writhed on the ground and watched as Greta carefully edged around him and then bolted from the room.  


He sobbed soundlessly and then went very still.

~*~

_ “Brahms? Sweetie, are you okay?”_  


_Oh, thank god, it was her. The woman he'd been dreaming of his whole life, the dreams that felt so real that he used to wake up and start weeping at the realization that she wasn't by his side. He could have one last dream of her before he died with a rusty screwdriver in his gut. _  


_ “Pen?” his eyelids fluttered open and there she was, blurry but there. Her golden brown hair fell around her shoulders, partially draped over him as her cool hand brushed over his face._  


_ “You're burning up.” Her face came into focus a little, enough for him to see the worry etched in every feature on her round, friendly face. “Do you feel sick?”_  


_He laughed humorlessly, making her frown deepen and fear start to shine in her eyes. Sick? Sure, he felt sick. Sick of his miserable life, the only good thing about it being her and the dreams of the life they shared together. Just like that, the dark humor of the situation faded for him and he closed his eyes, feeling them well with burning hot tears._  


_ “I wish you were with me,” he whispered with deep longing._  


_Her voice went high with fright. “I'm right next to you, Brahms. Can't you hear me?”_  


_He didn't answer and just lay there, letting the tears spill down his cheeks and drip down the sides of his face, gathering behind his ears. They left sticky, moist tracks that only made him more uncomfortable, prompting more tears._  


_ She sounded farther away when she next spoke, probably standing in the doorway of their bedroom. “Hi, this is Penny Heelshire, I need to talk to Dr. Erskine now, please.”_  


_A scared little voice suddenly asked, “Mommy?”_  


_ “It's okay, lovebug, Daddy just feels kinda sick. Take your sister back to your room, okay?”_  


_Swallowing hard, Brahms heard her voice going fainter and fainter and then he drifted away into darkness, try as he might to stay._

~*~

When Brahm next opened his eyes, he was back at the mansion, tucked once again into his childhood bed. For one confused moment, he wondered if Greta had changed her mind and decided to stay and nurse him back to health. He lay still, breathing softly; he could sense someone near him but until he knew who it was, he shouldn't let them know he was awake. Instead, he took stock of his injuries. His stomach burned a little but felt better than he would have expected. His head no longer ached from where Malcolm had hit him with the telephone, so it was safe to say that some time had passed since his confrontation with Greta and Malcolm and his murder of Cole.  


His mask was gone. He couldn't feel it on his face, feel his breath hitting the porcelain and steaming his face until he dripped with sweat.  


“You can open your eyes now. I know you're awake.”  


Cold suddenly clutched at his insides. He knew that voice though it had been some time since he heard it. Reluctantly he opened his eyes, doing it slowly so it wouldn't seem as if he was following orders.  


At the foot of his bed sat the person he hated most in the entire world: his nearly identical cousin, Benjamin. The son of his mother's older sister. Ben was only three years older than Brahms and they'd been expected to be playmates. It hadn't gone well.  


“What--” Brahms croaked and stopped when he couldn't force out more air.  


“Relax, old sport,” Ben said cheerfully. “We've taken care of everything. Cleaned up the place, tended to your considerable wounds, sent the police on their merry way. You just focus on feeling better, eh? Hungry?”  


Brahms considered denying it but then slowly nodded. Knowing Ben, maybe he'd poison the food and Brahms could die. Deep down, he knew Ben would do no such thing; it would be far too easy of an end and it would deprive Ben of the chance to torture him.  


Beaming, Ben leaned back and called, “Darling? Our patient needs you!”  


After a moment, a woman appeared in the doorway, deathly pale. Her hair hung to her shoulders in limp strands, the odd too dark and shiny look of dyed black hair. Her eyes took up most of her face, dark and vaguely frightened. She said nothing, just looked from Ben to Brahms and back to Ben again.  


“I think my cousin needs a nice bowl of soup. You can handle that, right?”  


The woman slowly nodded and then looked back at Brahms.  


A smile spread slowly across Ben's face. “Sorry. Lilah, this is my cousin, Brahms. Brahms, this is the light of my life, Delilah Jones. It's best you two make your friendlies now; we'll be spending quite a lot of time together.”  


“Is chicken noodle soup all right?” Lilah asked in a surprisingly lovely sounding voice. She sounded like she should be narrating a children's story book on tape, the kind that made a twinkly little magical noise when you were expected to turn the page.  


“Sounds lovely thanks,” Brahms replied, voice low.  


Lilah nodded and gave him the ghost of a smile. After one more look at Ben who gave his head an impatient jerk, she turned and walked away.  


Alone again, Ben resumed his bright, false smile. It was strange to look at him, to see what Brahms may have looked like if he hadn't burned in the house fire. They both had the same curling dark brown hair, the same thick dark eyebrows. Ben's nose wasn't quite as big as Brahms's, though, and he had dark brown eyes whereas Brahms's was green. Ben kept his hair cut neatly short to prevent the hair from curling. Maliciousness seemed to radiate from his every pore and Brahms couldn't think what the bastard was doing in his house.  


“Want to tell me what's been going on?” Ben asked cheerfully.  


“Not really,” Brahms answered.  


Ben chuckled and his amusement sounded genuine. “Oh, but I'm fascinated. The last I heard, you were dead, Brahmsy. And yet here you are. Living in the walls all this time? Yes, I found your lair. When we found the hole in the wall, I was curious what was back there. Then we swept up the glass, covered the hole, then explored the rest of the house. And here you were, back in your old room, out cold on the ground.” He shook his head, clucking his tongue. “That Greta did a number on you, didn't she?”  


“Where is--?”  


“Don't worry about her.” Ben waved a hand dismissively. “I took care of it.”  


“Like you took care of Emily?” Brahms asked on a growl.  


Ben gave him a theatrically disappointed face. “Now, Brahms, we both know you're the one who took care of Emily. I was the hero who ran to get help, remember? It's okay, though, it was a long time ago. I'm sure your memory will improve the longer I'm here to remind you.” He grinned as he watched Brahms get more angry and said, “Let's not get in a twist, eh? Rest, eat the soup the lovely Lilah will feed you, and we'll all be one big happy family.”  


“Why are you here?” Brahms snapped.  


Ben's smile fell, his eyes going hard. “You're lucky I _am_ here. You'd have died without my help.” He stood and stalked from the room, end of conversation.  


Brahms lay back and stared up at the ceiling, eyes hot with unshed tears and gritted his teeth so tightly they squeaked.

~*~

His abdomen burned when Lilah helped him to sit up in bed so he could eat his bowl of soup. Lilah hummed softly in apology when he hissed in pain and then fluffed the pillows behind him nicely. Once he was upright, he felt a little better, though his innards continued to grumble a bit about the strain.  


She sat across from him on the bed, carefully holding the bowl under his mouth as she spoon-fed him chicken noodle soup. It was canned, not at all what he'd been expecting and he wanted to spit it across the room and slap the bowl out of her hands. What stopped him was the kicked look in her eyes, the look that she was expecting him to be abusive and nasty. It was what she'd come to expect from the world. Really, she'd been quite nice to him and she didn't have to be. It only stood to reason that he should return the favor and treat her respectfully back, which meant eating the revolting soup without complaint.  


As he ate, he looked Lilah Jones over. If she'd arrived to the house as one of his potential nannies, he'd have rejected her immediately. She was thin, painfully so, her elbows sharp from where they poked out of her three quarter sleeved black shirt. Her face was long, made longer by how she'd parted her hair down the middle, forehead shining. No, she wasn't a physical type he found attractive. Yet she moved so quietly and gently, and helped him not to spill a drop of soup. And that beautiful speaking voice of hers; she could go into voice-over work and make a fortune.  


“How's your stomach?” she asked now, real concern showing in her eyes.  


Brahms swallowed the mushy, canned chicken he'd been unenthusiastically chewing before answering. “It hurts when I move. Otherwise, it burns a little. Not bad, actually.”  


“Good.” She nodded and spooned another mouthful of soup. “You worried us for awhile, there. Things looked bleak until we could get some antibiotics.”  


“We?” Brahms repeated.  


Her big, dark eyes flashed with amusement and then was gone. “Well, me. I ah, I was a nurse a long time ago. Before...”  


“Before Ben.”  


She nodded and glanced nervously over her shoulder. Then she cleared her throat. “In the next few days, we'll see if we can get you walking around. You must be going mad cooped up in bed like this.”  


“I'm used to being cooped up.”  


She gave him a quick embarrassed smile and said nothing else. He finished his soup and she set the empty bowl on his bedside table before standing. “Do you want me to bring you something to read? There's... I don't know how many books down in the library.”  


“I think I'll just sleep.” Brahms closed his eyes.  


“Of course. Rest.”  


He didn't answer and when he opened his eyes a minute later, she'd gone, taking the soup bowl with her.

~*~

_ “You had me worried for a second, there.” Penny sat in the chair next to his hospital bed, her clothes rumpled from sleeping upright in a chair for a few days. She looked sleepy, her face slightly puffy, but she smiled in that sparkly way that had made him fall in love with her all those years ago._  


_Brahms looked around. “How did I end up here?”_  


_ “Ambulance. You had a really high fever, so high that you made Dr. Erskine say 'fuck.'”_  


_ “Wow.”_  


_ “I know, right?” Penny leaned forward and stroked his hair back off his forehead. “Get some sleep. The fever finally broke so all those terrible dreams you were having should go away.”_  


_Brahms searched her face intently. “What was I dreaming?”_  


_ “I don't know. You kept screaming at someone to get back here, that you'd kill them just like the others. The girls weren't here so don't worry, they didn't hear you. It was pretty spooky, though.” Penny bit her lip and then did her best to smile for him to show him that he hadn't really frightened her. But he wasn't fooled._  


_He reached out a hand for her. “Pen?”_  


_She clasped his hand in both of hers and brought it up to her mouth to kiss it. “Yeah?”_  


_ “What if... what if I wasn't dreaming? What if, when I was asleep, I became another Brahms in another universe and... and I didn't have you?”_  


_Penny gave him a sweetly puzzled smile. “What's gotten into you?”_  


_ “What if?” he insisted._  


_Sighing, she gave him a tired smile and shrugged. “Better try to find the other universe's Penny. She might know how to help you.”_  


_ “Yes,” he murmured. “Yes of course. It's worth a try.”_  


_ “Until then, you should probably get some sleep.” She leaned across the bed and gave him a soft kiss on his mouth. The simple touch sent his heart racing. “Emily and Bobby are bringing the girls around tomorrow. They're really excited to see you.”_  


_Smiling, Brahms shut his eyes. “Good. Good. Find the other Penny.”_  


_She laughed affectionately as he drifted to sleep, the last thing he heard being, “I love you, you weirdo.”_


	2. Chapter 2

During the rest of the week, Brahms didn't see Ben again. This didn't put him at ease, however; it only made him more tense, waiting for his cousin's next appearance. Lilah would check on him throughout the day, bringing him his meals and changing the dressing on his stomach wound. Questioning revealed that Lilah had stitched it up herself after she'd carefully removed the screwdriver. She said that she'd done it neatly enough and judging by his natural hair growth in the area, the scar would be unnoticeable. Not that anyone would get the chance to see his stomach, though Brahms wondered fleetingly how Penny would feel about his scar.  


One rainy day, Lilah brought in a stack of magazines and set them on the bed before going to open the curtains. Brahms blinked and raised a hand to shade his eyes. Even though the weather was gloomy, the light was brighter than the orange glow from his lamp.  


“Right. Time to try sitting up for longer stretches,” Lilah said crisply. She helped Brahms sit upright and as always, his wound complained. However, it was starting to settle down sooner than it had the time before. “I brought you some things to read. You wouldn't tell me what books you wanted, so you'll have to make do with my magazines now that I've finished them.”  


Brahms turned one of the glossy magazines around to look at it. “Cosmopolitan?”  


“You should take the quiz to find out which wedding dress best suits you,” Lilah said dryly.  


He started to smile and read the cover. “I will as soon as I check out the hottest beach looks for summer.”  


“Are you hungry? I can make you a sandwich.” She pronounced the word as “sand widge” which he found oddly comforting. Had he known someone who said it that way? He couldn't remember.  


“Thank you, yes.” Brahms fanned out the magazines on his bed spread. Mademoiselle. Vogue. Vanity Fair. He picked up the last and started to gingerly page through it.  


Lilah nodded. “I'll be back soon.”  


“All right.” Brahms glanced up to watch her leave and then went back to the magazine, just looking at the pictures. He admired the photo spread of a Hollywood actress in a big dramatic gown as she stood in front of a fountain in a lush garden. He wondered if she'd gotten grass stains on the ends of the gown but figured she had assistants to hold her dress up for her. He turned the page and skimmed an interview with a politician advocating for climate change legislation then continued on. His hand slipped from the page and he gasped.  


It was Penny. Right there on the page in front of him. He gaped in disbelief at her photo where she sat on a stool in front of an easel, paintbrush resting against her lips as she frowned in thought at her canvas. It was an article all about her career in illustration, something he was well aware of from his dreams. Another picture below her photo and to the right of the text was a reproduction of a page from her only solo work, Amelie's Memory Garden. The familiar little red haired girl bowed to three flowers with the blurb “I wanted for kids to know that mourning was okay... [they] aren't required to put their feelings on hold to make everyone else comfortable.”  


He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling his heart pound so hard he worried he was going to have a cardiac event. Anxiously, he read the article from the beginning. It was mostly about artists getting work from Instagram, briefly mentioned that Penny's grandmother had been a famous author, and glossed over her artistic influences (Kate Greenaway, Arthur Rackham, and Virginia Frances Sterrett). The smile on his face fell when he reached the second to last paragraph of the article.  


_“I'm actually between projects right now,” Beech admits as she fiddles with the ring on her finger. “I've been planning my wedding and my fiance's sister's just had a baby. We're pretty busy. But once things settle down, I'm more than happy to get back to work.”_  


Fiance. She was engaged to someone else. He flipped back to the front of the magazine to check the date. June. So she was most likely married by now. To someone who wasn't him. Pain yawned open inside of him, far worse than his healing stab wound. This ache filled every part of him, made it hard to breathe. Penny was his. She always had been, from the moment they'd met to--  


**She hasn't actually met you, yet.** The voice sounded like his own but he couldn't tell where it was coming from. Inside his own head? Had he finally gone truly, irredeemably mad? What did it matter anyway? She'd married someone else when she was supposed to marry _him_. He'd known one day he'd grow up and find her and it would happen. But now...?  


Lilah appeared at the door holding a plate in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. “Here it is, sorry that-- What's wrong?”  


“Get out,” Brahms growled. This was her fault. She was the idiot who'd given him the magazines. If it wasn't for her, he'd be blissfully ignorant of his wife marrying someone else.  


“I don't—” Lilah looked uncertain.  


Brahms picked up a magazine and threw it at her. “GET OUT! GET THE HELL OUT! LEAVE!!”  


Alarmed, Lilah set the sandwich and drink on a nearby dresser and hurried out, shutting the door.  


Alone, Brahms started to sob and rip apart the magazine. Once the thing was mangled beyond all recognition, he shoved everything off of the bed and let his breathing slow down. His father had tried to do calm breathing with him when he was a boy, when he'd have his rages. When he got his breathing under control, no longer hyperventilating, he glanced over at the closed door and his lunch on the dresser. He regretted yelling at Lilah but he really preferred to be alone right now.  


Sniffling, Brahms settled back against the pillows, wincing when his insides stung, then closed his eyes and fell asleep.

~*~

_ “Could you try this? I think I over-salted it.”_  


_Brahms didn't look up from where he was setting the table. “I'm sure it's fine.”_  


_Penny didn't ask again and when he glanced at her, she was standing by the stove with a troubled expression on her face. “Brahms, what's wrong?”_  


_ “Who said anything was wrong?” He set a fork down harder than necessary and felt satisfied when she jumped. But of course, this was Penny, and she wasn't cowed by this kind of behavior. No, if anything it made her angry. He watched her eyes flash and he waited as she marched over to where he was standing. Here's where they'd have it out._  


_ “Okay, cut the shit,” she said, voice low. The girls were in the living room watching cartoons. “What's going on?”_  


_ “You know that other world I told you about?” Brahms asked._  


_She looked confused. “That what-if scenario you came up with the other day?”_  


_He looked intently into her eyes. “I looked for the other Penny like you said. She married someone else.”_  


_ “So... you're punishing me for what a version of me did in the universe that you_ made up_?” Penny planted her hands on her hips, eyes narrowing. “Because let me tell you something, buster. You're here with me. I married you. I love you, even when you're a paranoid asshole like right now. You're getting that bug out of your ass, you're going to kiss me and apologize, then you're tasting this stew and telling me if there's too much salt. Got it?”_  


_His heart still ached that the Penny who was available to him in his own, waking world wasn't actually available to him, but she made a good point. Sighing, he let his shoulders drop, murmured a quiet apology, and placed a kiss on her forehead._  


_Penny took his hand and led him to the stove, holding a wooden spoon of stew up to his mouth to taste. He accepted it and considered._  


_ “It's a little salty but not too much. I like it.”_  


_ “Ugh, I knew you'd say that. You and your salt. Must be an English thing.” She sent him a little smile and gave the soup a stir. “You know, this Penny of yours only married someone else because she hadn't met you.”_  


_He folded his arms and leaned against the counter. “You think?”_  


_ “Oh, yeah.” Penny nodded. “I bet if you met her, you'd win her over."_  


_Brahms raised his eyebrows. “Really, now? You think you'd cheat?”_  


_Penny looked up at him. “Only with you. No one's ever...” She cleared her throat, her face going adorably pink. “I haven't even had sexy thoughts about anyone else.”_  


_Fascinated, Brahms came closer, brushing her hair back from her face. “Is that a fact?”_  


_ “My very first sex dream was about you,” Penny whispered. She glanced over his shoulder to make sure they were alone and whispered in his ear, “I woke up and masturbated for the first time. I came saying your name.”_  


_He grabbed her waist and pulled her close. “Pen...”_  


_Right on cue, one of the girls shouted, “Mommy! Is dinner ready yet?_  


_Penny mouthed “later” at him and called, “Almost, sweet pea!”_  


_ “Good, cuz I'm hungry!”_  


_ “Me too,” Brahms rumbled in Penny's ear, making her giggle and swat his chest lightly._  


~*~

“Oh, Brahms.”  


Brahms woke to Ben standing at the foot of his bed, shaking his head and clucking his tongue. He gestured to the magazines and said, “What a mess. Lilah was nice enough to loan these to you and look what you did.”  


“Tell her I'm sorry,” Brahms wiped the sleep from his eyes.  


Ben's face darkened. “Tell her yourself.” He came closer to the bed and said, “You pull any shit like this again and I'll make sure that screwdriver goes through your throat next, got it?”  


Mouth dry, Brahms nodded. He knew Ben meant it. He'd seen what had been left of Emily's head; his cousin was capable of anything.  


Like flipping a switch, a bright smile lit up Ben's face. “Anyway! You slept through lunch so Lilah will bring you two servings of dinner if you want it. In the mean time, we have a few things to discuss. Where are your parents?”  


Brahms carefully studied Ben's face. Why was he asking? If he'd explored Brahms's living space, then he'd have found the last letter his parents had sent, telling him they were never coming home. The return address would have been on the envelope.  


“They're at the lake house,” Brahms said, which was truthful enough.  


“And they just left you with a nanny?” Ben tipped his head to the side. “Isn't that a little unusual?”  


“They were tired,” Brahms said, looking away.  


“Of you?” Ben asked silkily.  


“Yes.”  


For a moment, Ben seemed surprised by the honesty, but then his sickly sweet, faux concern returned. “When are they due back?”  


“I don't know.”  


Ben stared at him for a long moment and Brahms did his best not to squirm. Finally, Ben clapped his hands on his thighs loudly, making Brahms jump. “Well! Enough of that, then. When they come back, I have some business to discuss with your father. He likes investments, doesn't he?”  


“I really wouldn't know.”  


Ben sneered. “You wouldn't, would you.” He strode to the door. “I'll see you later, then!”  


When he was gone, Brahms muttered, “I can hardly wait.”


	3. Chapter 3

Though Brahms apologized, things were still a bit stilted with Lilah, not that she'd been terribly friendly to begin with; she seemed to fear Ben too much to exchange more than the most benign of pleasantries. She soon was walking up and down the hallways with him, patient as he struggled, hissing through his teeth at the pain. He'd thought sitting up had been difficult; walking around was much worse. Despite his growling and whining, Lilah kept at him and soon he was walking from room to room without needing her to prod him. He saw that Ben and Lilah had taken up residence in his parents' room, which made Brahms uneasy; it meant that Ben may suspect his parents weren't coming back.  


One day, Lilah said in her quick, efficient way, “All right, today we're going to walk you around and then you're getting in the bath.”  


Brahms was aware that he didn't smell very nice. He seldom bathed before his injury, but his scalp felt itchy and disgusting and he fairly welcomed the idea of a bath. Lilah had been giving him perfunctory sponge baths in bed and they hadn't included washing his hair.  


They walked around the landing, Brahms wondering faintly where Ben was, and when they'd finished, they went right into the bathroom and Lilah started running the water for him.  


“All right, strip,” Lilah said. When Brahms's shoulders hunched in discomfort, she quickly reassured him, “I won't watch.” She turned her back. “I'm only staying in the room in case you need help.”  


Brahms hastily shucked off the white and blue striped pajamas he'd been wearing for weeks and then slid into the warm water. He let out a long, involuntary sigh and grabbed for some soap to make bubbles. He knew from his dreams with Penny how nice bubble baths were; she particularly enjoyed taking them with him. He'd been doing his best not to think of her so often, but now there she was foremost in his mind and it made his heart ache.  


When the water was high enough, he turned the taps off himself and glanced over at Lilah. She'd sat down on the floor, back to him, her knees drawn to her chest. He wondered why she hadn't brought in a book or something, if she was really content staring at the closed door as her boyfriend's cousin took a bath.  


“Do you believe in dreams?” Brahms asked suddenly.  


Lilah almost turned to look at him but stopped herself. “What?”  


“Dreams. Do you think they're real sometimes?”  


She was quiet and then said, “I really don't know what you mean.”  


“Oh.” Brahms scrubbed at his skin and decided to let the whole thing drop, not really knowing why he'd said anything in the first place.  


“What kind of dreams are you having?” Lilah asked.  


Brahms shrugged, realized she couldn't see that, and then said, “I don't know. Never mind.”  


Lilah cleared her throat and then after hesitating a moment said quietly, “I had a dream when I was a little girl. It was so vivid, I never knew that I was asleep, it felt so real. My mum took me with her to do the shopping and I was looking at all the breakfast cereals, trying to pick one. Then I realized she wasn't next to me anymore and when I looked round, she was heading out the door without me. I screamed for her and started running but the door only got farther and farther away. I'd wake up in a panic and my gran would hold my hand until I fell asleep again. I had that dream, oh, for ages. They finally stopped once I'd grown. I've never thought about it until just now.”  


Brahms didn't really know what to do with all that so he dunked his head under the water to wash his stiff, disgusting hair. When he'd done that and rubbed his hands over his face he said, “My dreams aren't really like that. It's not the same every time, it's like... I'm living another life.”  


“A serial dream?” Lilah asked, sounding intrigued. “Those are rare but not unheard of. Is it like a story that picks up where you left off?”  


“Not quite.” He pulled his knees to his chest, pondering the right way to describe something he'd never shared with anyone before. “Time passes but I'm not there to see everything that's happened. I just pop in from time to time to see how another Brahms is living.”  


“Is it a nice life?” Lilah's tone was gentle, bringing tears to his eyes.  


“Yes,” Brahms whispered. “There's a woman there. I've dreamed of her since we were both children. She grew up and she's so lovely. I married her. We live in a big house far away from here and we have two little girls. She calls me sweetheart and plays silly pop music too loudly and swears like a sailor and--”  


Lilah laughed. “Okay, I get it. She sounds wonderful.”  


“Do you believe that... you're destined to be with one person? That the two of you are meant to be together?”  


“Like soulmates?” Lilah asked.  


“Yes!” Brahms clapped his hands together. “Yes, exactly! Like soulmates!”  


“I used to,” she said flatly. “I don't think so anymore.” She shifted uncomfortably on the tile floor. “Is this dream woman your soulmate?”  


Brahms nodded. “Yes. She is. One day I'm going to find her. She's real, I just need to...” He realized he'd torn apart the magazine, that he couldn't check the article again to find out where she lived. Her accent was American so she probably lived in the States. But Canadians sounded similar, so he'd been told. Of course, she could have been from one of those places originally, and she could have moved to another country later. Oh, it was hopeless.  


“You need to what?” Lilah prompted him.  


Sighing, Brahms said, “Finish my bath and recover.”  


“One step at a time,” Lilah said. She got up and grabbed a towel, carrying it over to him and averting her eyes. “Ready to get back to bed?”  


He mumbled an affirmative and grabbed the towel.

~*~

Glumly, Brahms sat up in bed and dozed off and on. No matter how often he fell asleep, he wasn't able to see Penny. It was true that he didn't dream of her every night but ever since he'd learned she existed in his world, the need to see her increased. Frustrated almost to the point of tears, he despaired of ever seeing her again. He hadn't since the day he'd seen her in the pages of Vanity Fair, real and married.  


**Oh, will you calm down?**  


Brahms sat up straight and looked wildly around the room. Where was that voice coming from? And why did it sound familiar?  


**Over here**. There was a tapping and it took Brahms a moment to realize the sound was coming from the mirror across the room. His skin began to crawl. What was trying to get out of there? There was more tapping and Brahms just barely resisted the urge to pull the covers over his head. **Will you come over here, please? We need to talk.**  


No, he wasn't going to do that. Not at all. Brahms glanced at the door, wondering if he should call for Lilah and what exactly he'd say when she got here. That he was going out of his mind, hearing voices from the mirror? Maybe she hadn't told Ben about his dreams but she'd definitely tell him about mirror voices.  


**I'm not going to hurt you. Not that I wouldn't like to, but I can't reach you. Come over here.**  


Swallowing hard, Brahms realized the voice wasn't going to stop until it had said its piece. He carefully got out of bed, only wincing slightly and then shuffled to the mirror. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't his reflection he was staring at; the face staring back at him was unscarred.  


**Hello, Brahms.** The Brahms in the mirror gave him a half smile. **I've been trying to talk to you for years.**  


“What's stopped you?” Brahms asked, looking enviously at his double. As well as being unscarred, his beard was neatly trimmed, his hair cut and styled nicely so his curls weren't wild and standing up.  


**The mask. You became the monster they said you were when you wore that mask. Right now, you're more yourself than you've been in a long time.**  


“I don't understand.” Brahms looked over his shoulder, hoping Ben hadn't heard him get out of bed.  


**He's not coming. He's in your father's study ripping it apart.**  


“Why?”  


**Can't you guess?** Mirror Brahms rolled his eyes. **It's this house he's after. He knows your parents have gone and he's looking for the will right now as we speak.**  


Brahms stood there in shock for a moment and then said, “Why does he think the house would go to him? He isn't a Heelshire.”  


**He's desperate and in a lot of trouble, Brahms. I think he might try to take over your identity and that would be a lot easier to do if you're dead. Best case scenario, he keeps you prisoner here.**  


“But doesn't everyone think I'm dead?” Brahms asked. “Wouldn't claiming to be me bring up more questions?”  


Mirror Brahm rubbed a hand over his face. **There isn't a death certificate.**  


“How can--”  


**The authorities weren't quite as stupid as they seemed. They knew the house fire wasn't hot enough to completely obliterate a body. They didn't find one in the wreckage but accepted the bribe not to investigate further. You're not dead, Brahms.**  


“How the hell do you know this?” Brahms exclaimed.  


Mirror Brahms hissed. **Your cousin may be occupied but his girlfriend isn't. Keep your voice down!**  


Worried, Brahms hobbled over to his door and carefully opened it, taking a look up and down the hall. No sign of Lilah eavesdropping. He came back to find his double leaning one arm against the mirror, fingers threaded through his hair in obvious frustration.  


“Do you know this because Ben does?” Brahms asked.  


Mirror Brahms nodded slowly. **The first thing he did was go to the public records office and look you up. Now he wants to find the will and once he has it, he'll come up with a good story of where you've been the last twenty or so years.**  


Brahms started to feel sick. “Why are you telling me all of this? To gloat?”  


**You fucking asshole,** Mirror Brahms snapped. **Of all the-- Why would I be gloating? Do you think I'm jealous of you interfering in my life, spending time with my wife?**  


“Aren't you?”  


**Well, yes**, the other Brahms admitted, turning a little pink. **I'm mostly here to help find your Penny so you can leave mine alone. But now I realize things are more dire than I suspected. There isn't a Cousin Ben in my universe, you see.**  


“Lucky,” Brahms muttered.  


**It's very lucky**, Mirror Brahms said solemnly. **You need to get out of this house.**  


“But my identity is going to be stolen,” Brahms argued. “Can't I just--”  


**What? Kill him? Add another body to your count?** Mirror Brahms sneered. **That can't be your solution to everything. Besides, you aren't fit enough right now, he'd easily over-power you. Plus he has assistance. You need to leave this house and-- Do you have an aunt Mildred?**  


“Yes, but I haven't seen her in years. She thinks I'm dead.”  


**Well, you're just going to have to go surprise her. Take a DNA test to prove your identity if she demands it, but you're going to need her help.  
**

“I don't even know where she lives! And I can't drive! And- and I don't know how to use a phone or anything that people do! I've never really left this house before!” He could feel himself beginning to hyperventilate at the very idea, his eyes welling with tears.  


**Stop it,** Mirror Brahms said sternly. **I'll help you, you fool. Calm down.**  


Brahms brushed his sleeve over his eyes. “Can I see Penny?”  


**You've seen her enough**.  


“Please?”  


**No!** Mirror Brahms turned away. **Go back to bed. I'll see you later and we'll start putting our plan together.**  


“Where are you going?” Brahms asked curiously.  


**I've got to pick up the girls from school**.  


“I've never actually--”  


**You've never actually seen them. I know. I haven't let you.**  


Brahms was about to ask why when he blinked and his mirror double was gone. In his place was Brahms's own reflection and he physically recoiled, seeing his true face with its significant scarring. He brought back his fist to smash it and then thought better of it; if he was in as much danger as his mirror twin claimed, he'd need the mirror to confer with him.  


Suddenly tired, Brahms trudged back to his bed.


	4. Chapter 4

Brahms thought he would have to wait weeks before his Mirror came back to help him but he appeared the very next night, tapping until Brahms woke up from a listless sleep. Without his Penny dreams to look forward to, his body didn't have much interest in getting rest. Just one dream was all he wanted. It didn't even need to be anything exciting, just the two of them curled up together on the sofa while Brahms watched television and Penny read a book. That easy companionship they shared was what his heart longed for when he wasn't fearful of when he'd see Ben next.  


**Everyone's asleep. You need to get down to your father's study.**  


“Do I have to look for the will?” Brahms asked sleepily.  


**No. I think it's with your father's lawyer. Ben hasn't reached that conclusion yet; he's watched too many films about eccentric millionaires hiding their wills for whatever reason. You need to get down to the study and start collecting any bank books you can find, cash, and so on. Ben hasn't pocketed any of it yet and you'll need to have a bit saved up before you can leave here.**  


“Fine.” Brahms started to the door but his mirror called him back. “What? I'm supposed to go downstairs, right?”  


**Use your tunnels. He hasn't discovered all of them yet. It's safest in case he wakes up.**  


“Oh. Right. Of course.” Feeling slightly foolish, Brahms turned and walked back to the wall, lightly pushing the panel that moved aside so he could slip into his old lair. It felt strange to be back here again after all these weeks inside the house proper. He still knew these tunnels like the back of his hand though and made it down to his father's study faster than if he'd taken the stairs out in the open.  


Carefully, he slid aside a panel and crawled into the room. His eyesight was quite good in the dark and he didn't need to switch on a light and alert anyone to his presence, in case Ben or Lilah got up to use the loo or go to the kitchen for a snack. Brahms carefully pulled open drawers and soundlessly shifted through their contents. He made sure to put everything back as he'd found it and then quietly close each drawer. At the end of his search he found two bankbooks, a credit card, and nearly a thousand pounds in bills and a handful of change. Slipping everything into his pockets, he went inside the wall once more and crept back into his room.  


The Mirror Brahms was waiting. **Put everything in your closet stash.**  


“How do you know about--”  


**I'm you, remember? I had the same hiding spot under the floorboards just in the closet there. Penny didn't like that I hid things I stole so I gave up my life of crime.**  


“Cute,” Brahms muttered. He hid the money in the hole in the floor and covered it neatly so no one would know it was there. Ben had never happened upon his stash; if he had, Brahms for sure would have been missing some of his more interesting items like firecrackers and one half of a porn magazine he'd found on the playing field at school.  


**That should be it for tonight**, Mirror Brahms said. **I'll be back tomorrow.**  


“That's it?” Brahms said, looking dismayed. “What if he notices anything missing?”  


**He won't,** Mirror Brahms said calmly. **He's given up looking for the will. He's trying to figure out what to do now and hasn't gone into your father's study for days. We have time.**  


“That's easy for you to say,” Brahms said but there wasn't much heat in it. He saw his twin give him a look of pity and had to look away. “Well, go on then. Goodnight.”  
Mirror Brahms left without a word and Brahms went grumbling to bed.

~*~

The next few nights, Mirror Brahms gave Brahms driving lessons. Sitting on the end of the bed, facing the mirror, Brahms pantomimed driving a car, following instructions to signal, shift into another gear, turn on the windshield wipers, and accelerate and brake. He felt silly but his mirror didn't make fun of him, just patiently explained road laws so he could understand. After three nights of this, Brahms was tested on everything he'd learned and both of them were pleased that he'd passed. Brahms had done well in school; he was good at learning.  


After that came lessons on how money worked, how to buy things in shops, and how to use a credit card specifically. Then he'd get another driving test. Mirror Brahms was worried about overloading him with too much information but Brahms was having a grand time. He was learning how to be a man so he wouldn't look the fool in front of Penny when he found her. Where she was, though, Mirror Brahms wasn't telling him.  


**I'm not telling you because I don't know,** he said crossly. **So stop asking**  


Brahms retrieved a driving map of England from the library downstairs and they found where Cornwall was and marked a route to take to get there. He marked it out with a pencil and then on the other side wrote down directions to Aunt Mildred's house. He hadn't been there in ages, not since he was about six years old, but what Mirror Brahms described sounded familiar.  


Then one morning, Lilah came into the room with a swollen lip and wouldn't meet his gaze directly.  


“Are you all right?” Brahms asked, aghast.  


“Yes,” Lilah said. “We're going to try walking up and down stairs today.”  


**Careful, Brahms**. Brahms cut a glance at the mirror and saw his twin looking pensive. He looked back at Lilah and realized she hadn't heard him. **Act weaker than you are.**  


“Do we have to?” Brahms asked, whining a little.  


Lilah thinned her lips. “Yes. Come on now, out of bed.”  


With not entirely feigned reluctance, Brahms rose from the bed and shuffled to the door. His heart gave a jump and started pounding hard to find Ben waiting in the hall, arms folded. He said nothing and Brahms said nothing in return. Lilah gripped his arm tightly and led him along to the staircase.  


“Here we go,” Lilah said, voice flat. “One foot in front of the other, Brahms.”  


Brahms did as she instructed and his stomach did ache but not terribly so. However, heeding the mirror's warning, he pressed a hand over his stomach and winced every few steps or so. All the while, he could feel Ben's eyes burning into his back. It wasn't hard to start sweating and he hoped it looked like it came from exertion rather than the anxiety wracking his body.  


“Can we rest please?” Brahms said breathlessly once he reached the bottom. “I-I can't...” he sagged down onto the floor and pressed a trembling hand to his sweaty forehead.  


“Of course,” Lilah said, sounding warmer. She stood and waited patiently for Brahms to get his wind back and then helped him to his feet. “Now back up. You can lean on me if you need to.”  


Brahms tried to avoid doing so but she turned out be stronger than she looked. He was wheezing by the time they had gotten up the stairs again and Lilah had both arms wrapped around him, keeping him upright.  


“I want my bed,” Brahms said, sounding pathetic.  


Ben finally spoke. “Go on then, little cousin. Once you've recovered from your ordeal, Lilah will bring you some breakfast.” He turned and headed down the stairs, looking for all the world casual and free. But Brahms and Lilah weren't fooled for a second.  


“What was that about?” Brahms asked Lilah as she helped him back to his room.  


“Nothing,” Lilah said. “He was just proving a point to me.”  


“Lilah, are you in trouble?”  


The smile on her face was horrible, so bitterly amused and pained. “Of course I am. I have been ever since I met the bastard.”  


“Is there anything I can--?”  


“No.” She tried to smile more naturally but it wavered as she struggled against tears. “No, Brahms. Just focus on getting well. All right?”  


“All right.” He watched her for a moment then said, “If there's anything I can do...”  


She shook her head and then suddenly leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “It's sweet of you to ask. I'll go get your breakfast.” She hurried from the room without another word.  


Brahms looked over at the mirror and his twin was still there, looking worried. His guts twisted, seeing that look. “What's happened?”  


**He's realized the money's gone. He thinks she's taken it and made a big show just now with you to prove that you didn't do it. He wants her to confess.**  


“We should leave now,” Brahms said urgently. “I don't want her to get into any more trouble with him. He hurt her lip, didn't he?”  


His mirror nodded. **Yes. But I don't think you're ready quite yet, Brahms. We need to gather together some clothes for you; you can't just walk around in your pajamas. Shoes too, of course. And I have to tell you how gas stations work and parking and--**  


“Fine.” Brahms put his head in his hands, feeling tired. “Whatever. So long as I can get out of here and find Penny.”  


**You aren't going to Penny, you're going to Mildred**, his mirror said sharply. **Get that straight in that thick head of yours! You are nowhere near ready to be the kind of man Penny needs you to be!**  


A lump formed in his throat and he looked away from his mirror as his eyes filled with tears.  


**Oh, hell.** Mirror Brahms sighed disgustedly. **Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper. You've made good progress, but you're still a murderer with the emotional depth of an eight year old. At this point, Pen would chew you up and spit you out. She doesn't suffer fools gladly. I can help you all I can but Millie needs to do the rest. Eh?**  


Brahms wiped his arm over his eyes and sniffed. “I suppose you're right. First Mildred, then Penny.”  


“Who?”  


Going still, Brahms realized Lilah was standing in the doorway with a tray. She looked confused as she walked over and set his breakfast in his lap.  


“Ah. No one.”  


Lilah chewed her lip and then winced when her teeth dug into the swollen bit. “Don't you have--” She cut herself off.  


“What?” Brahms asked, picking up a slice of toast. She'd left the crust on and had used margarine, not jam.  


“Nothing.” Lilah straightened. “I'll be back soon for your tray.”  


“Thank you.”  


Lilah avoided looking at him and mumbled something vague on her way out the door. Brahms picked at his breakfast and thought longingly of the food his mother made. Then it hit him that he'd never see his mother again and he lost all appetite completely.


	5. Chapter 5

It was late at night when his door creaked open and someone got into bed with him. Brahms was deeply asleep and didn't hear Mirror Brahms calling out in warning. Instead, Brahms continued to dream. He was with a faceless woman who he wanted to think was Penny, though she'd never been faceless to him before. She had his entire cock in his mouth, sucking it deeply, lips gliding over him in such a delicious way it made his back arch. _Good, good, so good_. Her hand gently fondled his balls while the other kept a firm grip on his left hip, trying to stop him from bucking and gagging her. That firm yet gentle grip felt familiar but he wasn't in any condition to do any critical thinking.  


**BRAHMS! WAKE UP!**  


The voice was getting louder and he frowned. It was distracting him from the wonderful things this woman was doing with her tongue. He broke out in gooseflesh and moaned softly. The woman started bobbing her head faster in encouragement and then suddenly she was gone. He only had a few moments to feel bereft until something warm enveloped his cock. Grunting, he began to stir awake as the woman lifted herself up and down his length.  


Brahms opened his eyes to see that he wasn't dreaming. “Pen?” he asked hopefully.  


The dark figure tilted her head. “Did you just call me Ben?” she asked, sounding horrified.  


Lilah. Not Penny. Lilah had been fellating him as he slept and now she was fucking him like she had every right to. His chest burned hot with rage. How dare she. How fucking _dare_ she.  


Snarling, Brahms reached out for her throat and squeezed as hard as he could. Lilah made a funny noise and started trying to slap his hands away but he only tightened his hold. He didn't realize he was screaming until the lights were suddenly on and Ben was in the doorway, wide-eyed.  


Blinking, Brahms looked from his cousin and back to Lilah. With the lights on, he could see the circlet of bruises around her upper arm; she must have been forced into doing this. Still, she'd gone along with it. He looked into Lilah's face, saw her lips were starting to turn blue and abruptly let her go and shoved her away, the movement wrenching his cock from her pussy which hurt but he wasn't about to show it.  


Lilah hit the floor hard and lay there gasping and coughing, weakly trying to crawl away. Ben made no move to help her. Brahms looked to the mirror and his twin was watching with his hands in his hair and tears in his eyes.  


“This has gone on long enough,” Brahms growled. “I want both of you out of my house. Now.”  


Ben slowly smiled. “You aren't in a position to give orders around here, Brahms.”  


He moved so swiftly Ben didn't see it coming until the lamp was shattering in his face. “Get out,” Brahms said again as his cousin hit the ground swearing. “Pack your shit and get out. Leave the car and the keys. If I find you slashed the tires or disabled it in some way, I'll tear your dick off and cram it down your throat. Do I make myself clear?”  


Pressing a hand to his bleeding cheek, Ben could only gape at Brahms. It was obvious that he'd underestimated Brahms and one could see the wheels turning in his brain, trying to make sense of all that had happened and wondering how he could make things go his way again.  


“Go. Now.” Brahms said through gritted teeth.  


Lilah was starting to cry now, quietly. She got to her feet, stumbling only a little and walked from the room. After a few minutes she returned, dressed. Ugly bruises were beginning to rise around her throat and her eye were completely red, the blood vessels having burst when she'd nearly been strangled to death. Brahms felt a little bit guilty but not as much as he should have. Everything in him felt cold and sick. He didn't take his eyes off of Ben, though, not even when Lilah tossed him the car keys. He caught them easily with his right hand.  


“You're going to regret this,” Ben whispered. “Oh, you're going to be so sorry, Brahms.”  


“I've always been sorry,” Brahms said bitterly. “You made sure I was. Why do you hate me so much?”  


Ben's eyes flashed. “If you don't know, I'm not going to be able to explain it to you.”  


Nostrils flaring, Brahms snapped, “Get walking. The village is over a hundred kilometers away.”  


Lilah gripped Ben's arm and tugged at him. Her face was blank and she didn't let herself look at Brahms. She mouthed “let's go” but couldn't seem to make any sound. Ben chuckled darkly and allowed Lilah to lead him away. Brahms listened to their feet on the stairs and then stepped out onto the landing, making sure they left the house. Then he walked downstairs and stood at the door to make sure they left the car alone. It looked like Ben had paused to consider it but Lilah kept tight hold of his arm and walked them along again. When they disappeared into the dark, Brahms went back into the house and locked every single door and window. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen, just in case, and went back upstairs to his room.  


**Brahms?** His Mirror Twin looked as sick as Brahms felt. **Jesus. Are you all right?**  


“You couldn't warn me that was coming?” Brahms asked, voice low.  


Mirror Brahms was white as a sheet. **I tried. I-I heard Ben fighting with Lilah, ordering her in here. She'd told him what she overheard us talking about yesterday, about Millie then Penny? She suspected you were planning on going to your aunt. So Ben thought that... if Lilah seduced you, you'd want to stay here and not...**  


Brahms didn't care anymore and turned away. He needed a bath and some time alone.  


**Brahms?**  


“Stop talking to me before I smash that mirror.” Brahms paused in that doorway. “You barely did anything to prevent him raping Lilah and me. I've killed innocent people, but you claim to be better than me and you did _nothing_.” He sent a hate filled look in the mirror's direction. “We're done speaking to each other. I don't need your help going forward. Goodbye.”  


**If you ever need me, just ask for me in any mirror.**  


Revulsion turned his lip upward. “I need you like I need cancer.” Then he went to the bathroom and ran a bath, turning the taps all the way to hot. He scalded his skin and the water did nothing to thaw the cold spreading from his stomach up to his chest.

~*~

After his bath, Brahms went back to bed and slept fitfully until morning. He had no dreams, for which he was immensely grateful. He felt like he couldn't face Penny again after what had happened. He wasn't sure what his plans going forward should be, now. All he'd thought of was her; her smile, her long golden brown hair, the way she laughed, the funny way she said “milk” like it had an “e” not an “i” in it. One thing was for sure though: he couldn't stay in this house anymore. He'd have to go forward with their plans of going to Milie's house.  


At first light, Brahms gave up trying to sleep and climbed out of bed. He did a quick search of the house and made sure Ben and Lilah hadn't come back to exact revenge. No sign of them but Brahms hadn't really been expecting to find them. Ben had always been the type to believe that revenge was a dish best served cold. He wouldn't see Ben again until the moment he stopped thinking about him.  


After locking up once more, Brahms went back upstairs, this time to his parents' room. He hesitated in the doorway, remembering running in here in the wee hours of the morning after having a bad dream. His mum always cuddled him close, telling him that she'd keep him safe. What a liar she turned out to be. Swallowing hard, Brahms entered the room and started going through the drawers, picking out a few pieces of his father's clothing. He shucked off his pajamas and put on a pair of warm black socks, gray trousers, and a jumper the color of split pea soup. He was taller than his father; the trousers stopped at his ankles and looked stupid. He went to the closet and searched the shoe rack. Most of the shoes were his mother's but he found a good pair of his father's leather boots and pulled those on. They were tall enough that they made the trousers look much less stupid but they pinched at the toes a bit. He hadn't realized how small his father was. He'd always seemed so much larger.  


He went to the bathroom one last time and then made an attempt to smooth his hair down. The curls still bounced back up. He had no idea what magic his mirror twin did to make his hair look so nice and manageable. Brahms exhaled sharply through his nose and figured he'd put this off long enough.  


Back in his room, he opened up the floor and gathered together his money and credit card. In one of his drawers, he found a small leather wallet that had been a gift from Mildred years and years ago. It was unused and after he wiped the dust away, the leather was bright and shiny. It made him feel a little heartened to see it. Maybe everything would work out right. With the wallet in his pocket, he reached back into the floor for the driving map and directions to Mildred's house. Then he closed up the floor and grabbed a valise from the shelf at the top of the closet. Passing out of the room, he grabbed the car keys from on top of the dresser. He went back into his parent's room and packed up the valise with a few more changes of clothing.  


With a shaky sigh, Brahms started down the stairs, wondering if he should grab something to eat from the kitchen. His stomach was in knots, he didn't think he could keep anything down. If he got hungry, he could pull over and buy something. That thought didn't exactly calm him, either. He felt sick dread at the thought of having to interact with other people. This was happening too fast. He wished suddenly for the Mirror Brahms but squelched that thought. He never wanted to see that blighter again.  


Brahms went ahead to the kitchen and made a few sandwiches, grabbed a couple of apples and put everything in a cloth sack he found in one of the drawers. His mother had used it when he was a child, when they would go to the market themselves rather than having their groceries delivered.  


“Get on with it, then,” Brahms mumbled to himself and went out the door. He locked up and then clattered down the stairs and over to the car. He mumbled the instructions over in his mind and was so focused on that, he didn't realized he was trying to unlock a door that wasn't locked. After a round of swearing, Brahms realized his mistake. Ben must have felt safe out here in seclusion and hadn't locked up. Brahms would be wiser than that.  


Behind the wheel of the car, Brahms continued to mumble through the steps. He didn't need to adjust the seat or mirrors because Ben had been driving and they were of similar heights. All he needed to do now was turn the key in the ignition, put the car in drive, and step on the accelerator.  


Before doing all that, he looked up at the big house he'd lived in for years, haunting the walls and killing the women who came there, their only crimes being they weren't Penny or similar enough to her to distract him for awhile.  


“Bye, house,” he mumbled and turned the key.


	6. Chapter 6

Despite his mirror's lessons, Brahms was a tense and nervous driver. He kept the radio off and drove in grim silence, not wanting to be distracted. Once, he forgot to check his blind spot when changing lanes and nearly collided with another car, the driver laying on their horn and startling Brahms so badly, he jumped and hit his head hard on the roof. After a few hours, he trusted himself to take his eyes off the road and checked the fuel gauge. He was getting close to empty. Luckily, he passed a sign alerting him to a petrol station and Brahms carefully steered the car off the main roadway and into a little service station.  


When he brought the car to a stop, his stomach sank. They hadn't gotten to the lesson about petrol stations. He sat back and debated whether he should turn to his rearview mirror and ask the other Brahms for help when a fellow came out of the station, waving his hand in what appeared to be a friendly fashion. Brahms rolled his window down, not sure what to expect.  


“Afternoon!” the man said. He seemed younger than Brahms, with shiny golden skin and bright eyes. “Fill her up for ya, mate?”  


“I'm sorry?” Brahms asked uncertainly.  


The man wasn't phased by Brahms's confusion. “We're a full service station. I can fill your car for ya if you like.”  


“Oh. Yes, yes thank you.” He handed the man the keys and watched his every move, how he unlocked the gas tank, how he held the hose before inserting it into the tank, then pressed the button down. It seemed simple enough, he could figure out how to pump gas if the next station he encountered wasn't like this one.  


“On a trip?” the man asked conversationally.  


“Er.” Brahms thought about it a moment. “Yes, I suppose so. I'm on my way to see my aunt.”  


The man chuckled. “Right, family isn't always a vacation. Whereabouts are you headed?”  


“Cornwall,” Brahms answered.  


“Ah, not too much farther, then. You should be there before dark.” The pump made a clunk sound, signaling the tank was full and the man withdrew the hose and peered at the numbers on the tank before telling Brahms the total.  


Brahms carefully counted out an amount and handed it to the man. When he said he'd go inside and grab him his change, Brahms told him to keep it. He felt a sliver of pride when the man flashed him a grin. “Thanks, mate. Not many people tip. You have a good day.”  


“Same to you.” Brahms rolled his window up again and waved back at the man as he started the car and headed back out on the road. He'd just had a successful interaction with another human being. Maybe there was a chance he wasn't as hopeless a case as the Mirror Brahms seemed to think.  


He clicked on the radio to test it out and made a face at the rock music that poured into the car. He hastily flicked through the stations while stopped at a red light and found some classical music. Sighing in satisfaction, Brahms continued on his way feeling a little more confident.

~*~

Just as the man at the gas station had said, he was driving down the lane towards Mildred's house just as the sun was starting to set. The sky was tinted with orange and reddish swirls and Brahms took a moment to appreciate it. He hadn't watched the sun rise or set since he was a child. Well, even then, he may have noticed the sun was setting while he played inside, he never made much of an effort to be out to actually watch it happen. It felt like a waste, suddenly, that he should have appreciated the world more before he was so suddenly ripped from it.  


Mildred's house was coming up on the right and Brahms pulled up to the curb to park, accidentally driving up on the sidewalk. Hissing, he turned the car left and bounced back down to the road. Jesus. What an ordeal. Shaking, he turned off the ignition and then looked at the house. It was large, not as large as his of course, but it was big and comfortable looking with a pear tree in the front. It had lost its leaves and stood nakedly on the neatly trimmed green lawn and Brahms looked away from it, feeling awkward suddenly. Lilah's naked form crawling across the floor, coughing and sobbing suddenly came to mind and he quickly suppressed the thought. He was good at suppressing things.  


Brahms got out of the car and made his way up the walk to the bright red door. He wiped his sweaty hand on his trousers and then rang the bell.  


“Coming, coming!” a voice called after a few moments. The familiar voice sent his heart pounding and he wavered where he stood, reaching out a hand on the door frame to steady himself.  


The door opened and there she was. Mildred Heelshire. The last time Brahm had seen her, she'd been in her late thirties, hair not yet gray. She'd had long, dark curls similar to his, knowing dark eyes that gleamed with a secret amusement, and a sharp chin with a slight cleft. She looked much the same, though she'd let her hair go gray and there were more lines around those delightful eyes of hers.  


“Aunt Millie...” Brahms said, not knowing what else to say.  


Mildred stared at him and then her eyes grew wide, welling with tears. She pressed a hand to her mouth and looked from his eyes to the burned part of his face, down to his jumper, and then back to his eyes.  


“Brahms, darling!”  


He never thought he'd hear himself called that ever again. Completely falling apart, he started sobbing and stepped forward just as Mildred reached out for him. She clutched him tightly as he cried hard like a frightened child.  


“Oh! Brahms! I had... I had no idea you were-- Well, I had an idea but your father and mother completely cut me out of their lives after... after...” She pulled back to look into his face. “You poor darling, where have you been all this time? Your poor face!”  


“I was in the house, Aunt Millie,” he said, sniffling. “They made me live in the walls.”  


Looking horrified, Mildred pressed her hands to his face. “Well, not anymore, my lad. Come inside. You have to tell me everything. Lord, my mind's spinning.”  


Once the door was shut, they settled into the kitchen and Mildred made them tea, setting a plate of biscuits on the table. Brahms helped himself to five, reconsidered, then put two back. Mildred reached across the table and put the two biscuits back onto his pile.  


“You're too thin,” she said gently. “Eat.”  


Mildred waited for him to finish eating before she urged him to tell his story. “Now, tell me. How did it all happen? Why did they do something so ghoulish?”  


“Because they thought I was a monster,” Brahms said quietly. He looked away from Millie. Tear were spilling down her cheeks and she was looking at him with such concern and love, he decided that he wasn't going to tell her about the rejected nannies he'd killed. That hadn't been him anyway, it was the mask. Mirror Brahms had said so. “I didn't kill Emily, Millie. I swear I didn't.”  


She drew in a deep breath and then said firmly, “I know.” When Brahms looked at her in surprise, she pursed her lips. “Everyone always said you were odd and it was true that you came across as stand-offish. You were quiet and preferred being alone. There only ever seemed to be any problems with you when that obnoxious cousin of yours came to visit.” Mildred's lip curled. “That little viper. I saw right through the innocent facade he'd put on to fool all the nitwit adults who are easily won over by pretty manners and easy smiles. I told your father once that Benjamin reminded me of Ted Bundy. He laughed at me. Oh, I'm sure he came to regret that.”  


“Who's Ted Bundy?” Brahms asked.  


Mildred opened her mouth to answer, thought better of it, then said, “A very bad man.”  


“Well, Ben's a very bad man, that's for sure.”  


“I know.” Mildred clutched her mug in both hands so tightly, her knuckles turned white. “I've been keeping an eye on him ever since your eighth birthday, when we thought the fire had killed you. He's never been in much trouble himself, a few domestic disturbances, sometimes a traffic ticket. But people around him seem to get into trouble or go missing. I never had enough evidence to take to the police; they'd just cluck their tongues and call me 'Miss Marple' if I tried.” She shook her head. “But enough about him. Tell me what's happened to you.”  


Brahms told her about living inside the walls, always feeling cold and then eventually never feeling it. He told her about the darkness, how alone he'd been, his parents refusing to see him and keeping him hidden away like an embarrassing secret. He told her about finding an old doll in the attic and then customizing it to look like a little boy. He'd left it in the sitting room to remind his parents he was still there. But then unexpectedly, they started doting on the doll, calling it Brahms and carrying it around like a precious thing. He thought he'd been lost to them before but with that doll he knew he'd never get his parents' love back again.  


Mildred reached over and grasped his hand. “Brahms, where are your parents now?”  


He drew in a deep breath. “They went away on vacation to the lake house. Almost two months ago, they sent me a letter telling me they were never coming back.”  


“So they've decided to live there?” Mildred asked, frowning.  


“I don't think they're living there, no,” he said quietly, putting a careful emphasis on 'living.'  


The color drained from Mildred's face. “I see. Then... I should phone the police and report them missing. It's only right that they're found.”  


“Thank you, Millie.”  


“As for you...” Mildred gave him a sad smile. “I still have hundreds of questions but you've had a long trip. How did you even know how to drive?”  


“I taught myself,” he said, not entirely lying.  


“Amazing.” She stood. “Let's go upstairs. I'll show you the guest room I wanted you to have when you were a boy. Every summer, I asked that mother of yours if I could take you for a fortnight but oh no, she wouldn't hear of it.”  


Brahms hadn't known that and it warmed his heart a little hearing that someone had wanted him. “Better late than never, I suppose.”  


She smiled and took his hand, leading him from the room.

~*~

The next few weeks were the happiest Brahms had experienced in a long, long time. Probably the happiest of his life, to be perfectly honest. Every morning started badly, though, jerking awake and then flailing in a panic before remembering where he was. The roar of the ocean so close by took some getting used to but became comforting, like the wind through the trees had been back at home. Then he'd dress and go downstairs where Mildred was always brewing a pot of tea and getting breakfast ready. She liked to make crepes and he'd fill his with eggs and strawberry jam. The first morning, he'd crammed everything into his face in excitement but the next morning, Mildred gently taught him proper table etiquette.  


Mildred had declared his wardrobe “unsuitable” and she took him to a shopping center where he felt uncomfortable. People stared at him because of his scarred face and they only stopped when Mildred very deliberately stared back at them. They chose many new jumpers, underwear, socks, and even his first pairs of jeans. He'd balked at the cost but Mildred had told him to consider the clothing as twenty years of birthdays and Christmases she hadn't been able to spend on him. So he enjoyed the spirit of the shopping trip a little more by the time they'd gotten to the shoe store and he picked out a nice pair of boots and a pair of oxfords that reminded him of his father.  


True to her word, Mildred had reported his parents missing and the authorities had gone out to the lake house. They'd searched the lake until they'd found their corpses at the bottom, their pockets weighed down with stones. He'd expected to be more devastated by this news but he'd made his peace with his parents being gone when he'd received their goodbye letter. Now they'd met with the lawyers who told them that Brahms had inherited most of the Heelshire estate, Mildred getting a small quantity of it as well.  


“I'd always thought the Heelshire son had died,” the lawyer said, looking skeptically at Brahms.  


Mildred gave him a tight smile. “His documentation should be in my brother's lockbox. We can do a DNA test or take finger prints if we need to.”  


“No, no. That won't be necessary.” But he'd looked at Brahms thoughtfully, especially looking at Brahms's scars. Brahms was coming to discover that the treatment he'd received at the hands of his parents was completely bonkers so there was no way that the lawyer could possibly deduce that he'd been kept in the walls of his childhood home like a caged animal.  


On the way back from the lawyer, Mildred had said casually, “We can set up a driving test for you this weekend if you like. I know you know how to already, otherwise I'd suggest lessons. But you need a license in order to drive legally.”  


Brahms nodded. “That sounds fine. Then maybe I could buy a car. A jaguar maybe?”  


Mildred chuckled. “We'll see.” She'd given him a quick glance and then said, “Maybe we can look online for a mask.”  


His heart suddenly went cold. “A mask?”  


“For just the one side of your face. I've noticed how people stare and it... it seems to bother you. We could find something discreet and comfortable-fitting, I'm sure of it.” She saw the look on his face and said gently, “I'm not asking you to hide yourself away, darling. You're far from hideous. I'm only thinking of your own comfort because of the staring. Maybe you'll get used to it.”  


“Maybe,” Brahms said quietly and that was the last they'd discussed it.  


He'd taken his driving test and passed on the first try. He'd been nervous being in the car with a stranger so close to him but he'd stayed strong and focused on the instructor's directions and at the end he'd received his passing grade and officially became a licensed driver.  


All the while, he had lessons with Mildred about the world, how government worked, all the new technology that had advanced since he'd left the world in 1991. The internet blew his mind and he spent some time playing on that and searching. It didn't take long before he Googled “Penny Beech” and found her Instagram page, a few more articles that had been written about her around the time her book had been published, and her Facebook page that looked like it hadn't been used in a couple of years. He looked through some of the old pictures that went back to her college days and felt a surge of longing, staring into her smiling, happy face.  


Nowhere, in all his searching, did he find a marriage announcement.  


Brahms was at the table one night with his new laptop, looking through Penny's Instagram again, when Mildred came into the room. He glanced up and gave her a quick smile then looked back at his screen.  


“Brahms,” Mildred said gently and sat down directly across from him.  


She sounded serious so he gave her his full attention. “Yes?”  


“I wanted to ask you something.” She paused and drew in a breath. “I don't want you to take this the wrong way. I love having you here but... you're still a young man. You shouldn't be hidden away with your maiden aunt. Is there anything... What do you want out of your life, Brahms?”  


He sucked in a breath and only had to consider the question for a moment. What did he want? Easy. What he'd always wanted. He turned his laptop around to show Mildred the screen, displaying a picture of Penny holding a fluffy many-colored cat.  


“Her,” he said simply. “I want her.”


	7. Chapter 7

It took some time but Brahms told Mildred the whole story about his dreams and after some initial hesitation, his mirror twin as well. He half expected her to think he was loony, his dreams the result of lonely years shut away from the world and the possibility of falling in love with someone like Penny was what got him through it all. And the twin? An imaginary friend born of the desire for companionship.  


But Mildred surprised him.  


Mildred looked at the computer screen, scrolling through Penny's Instagram and then said slowly, “I know her.”  


“You do?” Brahms's eyes bulged in disbelief.  


“Yes. She seems quite familiar to.... wait.” Mildred left the page and googled “Penelope R. Beech” and clicked the first link. She let out an excited shout. “I thought so! She's my dear old friend Morgana's grand child! That's how the Brahms in another universe must have met Penny! Through me and her grandmother!”  


“Can you get in touch with her?” Brahms asked.  


Mildred gave him a _don't be daft_ look. “Of course I can. Even if she wasn't in my list of contacts, I was an investigative journalist for thirty years. Have a little faith in me Brahms, please.”  


Brahms found himself grinning. “Then you can introduce us? I can finally meet her?”  


“I could,” Mildred said, suddenly growing cautious. “Darling... you aren't planning to tell her your whole story, are you?”  


He had been but seeing Mildred's face now, he grew uncertain. “I shouldn't, should I?”  


“Not at first, maybe,” Mildred said. “This is quite a lot to unpack, you know.”  


With a rueful smile, Brahms rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yes, I suppose it is.”  


“I can give her a call and see how she's doing,” Mildred said slowly, thinking out loud. “Say that her grandmother's been in my thoughts and I thought I should check in. She's been on my Christmas card list for ages but I can't even remember the last time I've actually spoken to the girl. Then maybe I can bring up the fact that my nephew is interested in a career in journalism and would she mind terribly agreeing to an interview.”  


Brahms clapped his hands together once, grinning so big it was a wonder his face didn't split open. “Millie, you're a genius!”  


“Yes, but this may take time, love. She lives in America. We'll have to get you a passport to fly you out there since we can't very well ask her to come here for a piddly little puff piece you'll sell to some women's magazine.”  


“I'll wait as long as I have to,” Brahms said fervently. “I've already waited years for her as it is.”  


Mildred patted his hand and glanced at the clock. “It's afternoon in her part of the world. I'll call her now.”  


Brahms's heart pounded wildly. “Thank you so much, Millie.”  


“You deserve all the happiness in the world, darling.”  


He thought of his hands wrapped around Lilah's neck, those same hands wrapped around Greta's neck, about driving a knife into the back of a woman trying to run screaming from the house before that. Unable to face that, he quickly looked away from his aunt and back to the laptop.  


Then he opened up Google and typed in “face mask.”

~*~

Brahms was on pins and needles waiting for Mildred to get off of the phone. She'd been speaking to Penny for an hour and his heartbeat had yet to slow down. He still sat at the table with the laptop in front of him, watching You Tube tutorials on how to conduct interviews. It was difficult to pay attention, knowing that his aunt was in the other room speaking to the love of his life.  


Finally, Mildred entered the room and Brahms smiled hopefully at the triumphant look on Mildred's face. “You don't have to fly anywhere; she's coming to the UK next month for a job opportunity. She's working with a children's book author as an illustrator. She was very excited and wanted to tell me all about it. Sweet girl. And she's more than happy to have an interview with you. She says she always feels awkward during an interview so having someone speak to her as a family friend is comforting. Those were exact words, love.”  


"So she'll meet with me?"

“She will. She says that you should email her on the third; she'll have her schedule then and can work something out with you. We need to set you up with an email, love. What do you think? Are you excited?  


He could only nod, not trusting himself to speak. Mildred stepped behind him and hugged him around the shoulders, giving the top of his head a kiss. She saw his computer screen and gave him a quick squeeze before releasing him. “Ah, research is a good idea. If you want any advice, you can ask me anything as well. I'm happy to share my experience with you.”  


“What should I do after the interview?” Brahms asked. “I don't want to interview her and then watch her walk away forever.”  


Mildred sighed and sat down beside him. “I think you're getting ahead of yourself, Brahms. You could meet and end up not liking one another.” She watched him start to shake his head but quickly talked over his protests, “It could happen! She could be a different person from the one the other Brahms knows. You're certainly different from _him_ aren't you?”  


“Yes,” Brahms said glumly.  


She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Honestly, though, she seems like a very sweet girl. A little sad as well. She was engaged to be married and the man called things off a few months ago.”  


Eagerly he leaned forward. “He did? Why?”  


“Brahms.” Mildred gave him a disapproving look. “It doesn't do to appear so eager to gossip.”  


He sat back in his chair and willed his face to look indifferent, raising an eyebrow with a faint air of surprise. “Oh, he did? Why's that then?”  


“You little smart ass.” Mildred chuckled and then her smile faded to sadness on Penny's behalf. “He decided that he didn't want children after leading the poor girl on for years. You know she was orphaned at the age of five, right?” Brahms nodded and Mildred continued, “It's always been important to her to start a family, to fill that huge hole in her heart. The feeling only got stronger after Morgana died. Her grandmother.”  


“I know who Morgana was.” Brahms looked at Mildred a moment. “I dreamed that Morgana brought Penny to my birthday party. That's where we all became friends. Then all four of us went to your house and spent weeks here.”  


Mildred's eyes got a little misty. “That sounds lovely.”  


“It _was_ lovely,” Brahms said. “Then every summer after that, we went to Portland to visit them instead. After a few years, they'd come out here to spend Christmas with us. Millie, I never wanted to wake up from those dreams.”  


She gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze. “Pretty soon, you'll never have to dream like that again because your life will be just as good.”  


“It nearly is,” he told her.  


“I'm glad to hear that.” She looked away and nodded toward his screen. “Let's watch the next one. I'm interested in what Katie Couric considers a 'good interview.'”

~*~

In the next two weeks, Brahms set up an email address and did copious research on Penny. His extensive Googling had found an interview she'd given for her college paper, promoting an art show she was taking part in. There were some fun questions there that he thought he could follow up on, which would show her that he'd done his research. He looked up all of the artists she'd ever listed as inspirations and then went through her own work on Intagram to pick a favorite and ask her specific questions about it. He drove to the library and picked out every book she'd ever illustrated, read them, and took notes. He would have gotten more strange looks but the face mask he'd ordered had come in the mail, so he'd get curious looks but not the outright horror he'd been treated to on more than one occasion.  


Then on November 3rd, he logged into his email and spent two hours agonizing over what to write to her. He didn't want to sound too familiar but on the other hand he didn't want to sound too formal. Finally, he cobbled something together, got Mildred's approval, and then sent it.  


_Hello, Penny!_  
_Thanks for agreeing to an interview. I hope you're enjoying London so far. As soon as you have a free moment, let me know how your schedule turns out and when you'll be available._  
_Regards,_  
_Brahms_  


He clicked SEND with a sweaty hand and then paced around the house, waiting for a reply. He made a cup of tea, walked into the library to look at Mildred's books, chose one on Liszt and then dropped it to the ground and sprinted back to the dining room when he heard his laptop chime with a new message.  


It was from prbeech@xmail.com and he eagerly opened it, not even sitting down in his chair in his eagerness.  


_Hi, Brahms!_  
_I'm looking forward to meeting you! My grandmother absolutely loved your aunt and spoke highly of her. I'm surprised we've never met before, actually! London's been wonderful but I'm pretty jet-lagged. The eight hour time difference is a killer. Anyway, it looks like I have some time available on the weekend. Would you like to meet for breakfast at 10:00 on Saturday? There's a nice cafe just around the corner from my hotel. Here's the details... Let me know what you think!_  
_Love,_  
_Penny_  


Love. She'd written love. Her whole message was so... easy and fun. What he'd written suddenly sounded stiff and unfriendly. She must think he was some Oxbridge snob who was lowering himself interviewing an American illustrator. Well, he'd have to undo the damage somehow. He wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans and got typing.  


_Hello, Penny!_  
_Breakfast sounds lovely. I heard that cafe makes brilliant waffles. Not quite as good as my aunt's but maybe you'll get a chance to decide that for yourself someday? I'll meet you Saturday at 10. Here's my number just in case...._  
_Thanks again,_  
_Brahms_  


He didn't even bother having Mildred check it and sent it off. The email sounded more like a cheery bloke who cared a lot about breakfast foods. Not exactly cool but better than the stuffed shirt of the first message. A moment later his email dinged with a quick follow-up from Penny: _Cool, see ya then! <3_  


Happily, Brahms tore from the room to tell Mildred all about it.

~*~

Brahms was packing his bag and sat down to look sadly around the room. He'd come to love Mildred's house as if it were his own. It hurt his heart to have to leave it, this tower room with the yellow walls, the lacy white curtains on the windows. It was all so airy and light, so different from the dark mahogany and navy blue and maroon that decorated so much of his childhood home. It was the room he'd inhabited in his dreams with Penny, when they'd both been children. They'd marked their heights on the door frame and Mildred had let them decorate one wall with hand prints done in blue paint.  


_I get to meet her now,_ he reminded himself. Leaving was a good thing.  


Mildred had told him it was out of the question to drive from Cornwall to London and back in one day. She had a flat in London, in Islington, and she wanted him to use it. She'd gotten a little funny and said that he might need it in case “something interesting” happened and then refused to elaborate on what she meant.  


Brahms finished packing up the last of his things. It took up two suitcases and one satchel over his shoulder that made him feel like Indiana Jones, only the bag was a little bigger and carried his laptop and charger.  


He glanced at the clock. He should get going if he wanted to reach London before dark. He'd discovered that driving at night made him nervous, more nervous than driving typically made him, and wanted to avoid it if he possibly could. Gathering all of his things together, Brahms took one more look around the room and then went downstairs.  


Mildred was waiting at the door with a paper bag. She handed it to Brahms with a wobbly smile. “Just some odds and bobs in case you get hungry. The flat has some takeaway menus on the fridge if you want to get dinner. Call me when you get in so I know you made it safely.”  


“I will.” Brahms nodded.  


With a soft exclamation, Mildred gave him a big hug then opened the door. “Good luck, love. Be careful.”  


“I will,” he repeated. “Thank you, Millie. For everything.”  


“Finding out you were alive was the best news I've ever gotten,” she said, her voice husky. “Thank you for trusting me enough to want to come find me.”  


Brahms gave her one last smile and headed to his car. They'd abandoned Ben's car in Brighton and then not too long ago bought Brahms the jaguar he'd joked about. He loaded his things into the trunk and then got behind the wheel of this beautiful machine he still couldn't believe was his. He waved to Mildred who still stood on the porch watching him and she waved back. Then he turned the key in the ignition and bid Cornwall a sad goodbye.  


_Penny's in London waiting for me,_ he thought and immediately felt less sad.


	8. Chapter 8

The night before his meeting with Penny, Mildred called. Brahms was sacked out on the sofa trying to listen to Kate Bush, Penny's favorite singer. It was hard though; he found her voice a little shrill and difficult to listen to. His phone rang and he reached out for it on the coffee table, pausing the music video on his laptop. Kate Bush froze with her arms outstretched in front of her, eyes wide beseeching Heathcliff to let her inside.  


It was Mildred. “Hello, I just wanted to check in.”  


He'd arrived in London only days ago and had checked in himself at the time, so he had to raise his eyebrow. “Everything's fine. I had a little trouble with the ice dispenser on the refrigerator at first but I've figured it out.”  


“Well, I always knew you were clever.” She sounded amused and then drew in a breath. “I wasn't worried about the flat. I was worried about... well. I'm not _worried_ exactly. I think the best word for it is _concerned_.”  


Brahms rolled his eyes. “What are you concerned about?”  


“I just... I don't want you to get your hopes up. About Penny.”  


He frowned. “What do you mean?”  


“Well, you don't even know her. You knew a version of her, I understand that, but this Penny may be completely different. If she doesn't... if she isn't as taken with you as you are with her, I'm wor- _concerned_ that you'll be disappointed. You've made this woman your whole reason to leave that old house and believe me, it's good that you left there. But it isn't terribly healthy of you to pin all your hopes for the future on one person, particularly a person you don't even know.”  


“Are you finished?” Brahms asked softly.  


Mildred sighed. “Yes, I think I am.”  


“You don't need to be concerned, Millie.” Brahms sat up straight and spoke from his heart with confidence. “I appreciate it, though. I know this Penny isn't who I've dreamed of. But the thing is... I'm not that Brahms, either. Both of us are different people. We'll need to get to know one another and I'm fine with that. I'm happy to take anything she gives me. I'll be disappointed if she rejects me entirely but I really don't think that will happen. It's just this feeling I have, I can't really explain it. So many strange things have happened already, why not one more? Maybe Penny and I could find happiness together after all the darkness we've each been through?”  


For a long moment, Mildred was quiet and Brahms wondered if they'd lost their connection. Then she finally spoke. “All right, darling. If it doesn't work out, though, I'd like you to come right back here. I'll help you form a backup plan. You aren't alone, Brahms. Not anymore.”  


He swallowed hard and said huskily, “Thanks, Millie.”  


“You're welcome.”  


They said goodnight and Brahms hung up the phone. He picked up his laptop and decided to try a different Kate Bush song. There was probably something in her back catalog he'd enjoy if he looked hard enough.

~*~

On his way to the cafe, his phone chirped. An unknown number had texted him. Stopping at a light, he read it. _Hey, Brahms, it's Penny. It's such a pretty day today, I picked a table outside. Hope that's okay! :)_  


He texted back that it was fine and someone laid on their horn when he didn't immediately drive forward when the light turned green. He tossed his phone onto the seat beside him and resisted the urge to flip off the other driver. He'd seen Mildred do that once when someone cut her off in traffic and she'd turned to him and said “Never do that. I can only get away with it because I'm an old lady.”  


It took a little time to find a space and then park. Parallel parking made him nervous but he could do it if he just focused and pretended that he was by himself. That wasn't so terribly difficult; he had ample experience being alone. Satisfied with how close he'd gotten to the curb, Brahms got out of the car and grabbed the bouquet of flowers off of the passenger seat and slipped his phone into his pocket. He pressed the button on his key fob to lock the doors and headed on his way. The flowers had been a last minute idea the day before; he wanted to give Penny something for making time for him. He'd gone to a florist and asked the nice woman behind the counter to build a bouquet of flowers in Penny's favorite colors. He didn't know what everything was but it was all whites, blues, and purples.  


He rounded the corner and could see the cafe at the end of the block. Lots of people were dining al fresco; the sun was shining brightly and though it wasn't exactly warm, it wasn't freezing either. As he got closer, he caught sight of Penny and his heart rate accelerated. She was facing toward him but was staring down at her phone. Her hair shone golden in the sun, though in this reality, she'd cut it to her shoulders rather than letting it grow long down her back. She was dressed in a black dress patterned with red flowers under a red leather jacket . She wore black tights and red ankle boots that laced up. Her glasses perched on the end of her nose as she chewed on her lip, staring intently at her phone, legs crossed with the top leg swinging back and forth. He wanted to freeze this moment forever. But he'd come this far, so...  


“Penny?”

~*~

Penny didn't know why she was so nervous. She'd done interviews before. Mostly those had been done over email, once over the phone. The interviewer, Brahms, had seemed nice enough in his texts. He was right to suggest the waffles; Penny had tried the cafe out the day before and had eaten a huge stack greedily. Carbs had always been one of her weaknesses. Now, she was too nervous to eat but she'd ordered a coffee so no one would kick her out. The mug steamed from its place on the table and she took a sip now and then. Brahms had texted her that he was on his way so all she had to do was wait.  


Wanting to take her mind off of being nervous, she picked up her phone and scrolled through Instagram. She was only half paying attention but paused when she saw her fiance... ex fiance, Chris. It looked like he was at a bar and he was smiling as a mutual acquaintance who Penny had forgotten she followed, kissed him on the cheek. The woman had her arm flung around his shoulders, her cute punky blue hair tickling his neck. Maybe that was why he was smiling. The caption the acquaintance had written immediately made Penny's blood boil: _So glad this dude's single!!!_  


Penny frowned, feeling her nervous stomach twist further. Chris had acted so devastated when he'd broken their engagement. He'd cried his eyes out, telling her that he didn't want to let her go but had to for her own good. Now, just three month later, he was letting flaky punk girls kiss him in bars. She quickly unfollowed the blue-haired woman (Tawny. Her name was Tawny and she was more a friend of a friend then really friendly with Penny. Penny suddenly remembered Tawny's response to finding out that Penny was a children's book illustrator: “Awww, that's cuuuute.” With minimal sincerity. Why had Penny added her on Insta anyway? Just to be polite to their mutual friend?) then blocked her for good measure. She must have forgotten she followed Penny, too, or she wouldn't have posted something that passive aggressive. Actually, come to think of her reaction to Penny's career, the post may have been deliberate.  


“Penny?”  


Startled, she looked up and then up. A tall man with a mask affixed to one side of his face smiled at her uncertainly. Mildred had told her about the house fire; this had to be Brahms. How many men with Phantom of the Opera masks were walking around London knowing her name?  


“Brahms?” She stood so their height difference would stop being so extreme. Now that she wasn't overwhelmed by his height, she got a good look at him. Curly, dark brown hair that tumbled over his forehead. Freckles sprinkled lightly across his face. Kinda bigish nose but she liked those. But best of all were his eyes, a lovely shade of peaceful green.  


“Yes, hello.” He held out his hand and it took Penny a moment before she realized what that meant and then she grasped it, giving him a firm handshake.  


When they dropped hands, she noticed the flowers he clutched to his side. “Oh! Are those...?”  


His face turned a little pink and he cleared his throat. “Er, yes, sorry. These are for you.”  


She accepted the bouquet and gasped softly. He'd somehow managed to choose flowers that were all her favorite colors. They must be in season or something; Grandma had known more about flowers than Penny had so she didn't really know what any of them were. “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “God, they're just beautiful. I'll make sure to get them in water as soon as I get back to the hotel.”  


“You're welcome.” He still stood and Penny realized he was waiting for her to sit. Touched by what a gentleman he was, Penny smiled at him, what her best friend Emily called her “bedazzled smile” and she took a seat. He followed suit.  


Penny set the bouquet next to her plate and admired it while he fiddled with his phone for a moment.  


“Do you mind if I record this?” Brahms asked.  


“Not at all.”  


He pressed a button and then set the phone down on the table. “Well, first of all, again, thank you for meeting with me, Penny.”  


She gave him a tiny smile. “No problem.”  


“I understand you're in London to illustrate a book. Could you tell me a little about that?”  


Penny's smile fell a little. She didn't really want to talk about that at all. She was a last choice for the author, who'd wanted to work with someone who hadn't been available. The author had referred to Penny's work as “twee” which felt unfair and dismissive.  


“I'm working with Matthew Danson on his latest project. He hasn't decided on a title yet but he's written a little parable about a child who lies too much. Every time he lies, the thing he lied about comes true. Like, he tells the teacher he was late coming in from recess because there had been a dog on campus who chased him. Later, he goes to use the bathroom and is chased down the hall by a dog. It's a fun story and we're looking through my sketches right now, deciding what style to go with, what colors we want to use, and so on.” _We_. Danson had turned his nose up at everything she'd offered him, even rejecting the page when he saw she'd given the little boy main character a striped t-shirt. There was no need to bring up dirty laundry, though.  


“Is that how it always works?” Brahms asked. “Collaborating every step of the way?”  


Penny hesitated. How had he picked up on her feelings? Maybe she was telegraphing too much. “Well, it depends on the partnership. I've just met Matthew and he's a well established author who has strong ideas about his work. I want to be on the same page as him so we can make a book both of us can be proud of. For my first book, I worked with an old friend of mine from college and she knew my abilities and sort of gave me free reign. Some authors tell you the specifics of what they want and then you do what they asked to the best of your ability and they give you notes. So, basically, it depends. Not every relationship's the same.”  


Brahms nodded his understanding. “Do you prefer working with someone else? You only have one work that's solely yours, Amelie's Memory Garden. For your next project, would you consider writing and illustrating for yourself again?”  


“I like working with someone else because writing is so insular. If I have a partner, I have someone to send my drawings to and get feedback from immediately, someone who cares about the work as much as I do. It's nice to have all the credit and have no one else to answer to, that it's just mine. Maybe I'd consider doing something myself again, but I don't have any ideas right now. I like being inspired to draw based on another's words, though. I don't know, I wouldn't rule anything out at this point.”  


He met her eyes and said gently, “Well, I hope you write something again. Your work is beautiful.”  


Penny felt her face heat up and felt silly. “Well... um. Thank you.”  


Smiling, he looked down at the notes on his phone and then looked up again. “In the past you've cited some fairly traditional fairy tale illustrators as inspiration for your own work. Are there any artists whose work you enjoy but don't necessarily want to emulate? Or maybe you would like to emulate them to try something outside of your comfort zone?”  


“Hmmm.” Penny sat back and thought. “Haven't been asked that one. Is this your first interview, Brahms?”  


He appeared nervous for the first time since they'd sat down. “Er. Yes.”  


“It doesn't show,” she said reassuringly. “I just think you're asking good questions.”  


Brahms smiled and Penny felt a stir of sexual interest. He was really cute, but not the type of guy she usually went for. She liked outgoing, sporty guys who encouraged her to come out of her shell. Brahms seemed like the type who'd like to curl up next to her inside her shell and then they'd listen to each other's favorite songs. The image suddenly struck her as really appealing.  


A waiter approached the table. “Sir? Can I get anything for you?”  


“Oh!” Brahms sat up straight. “Er. A tea please?”  


“Of course. How do you like it?”  


“Milk and two sugars, please.”  


“Very good. Miss? Can I get anything else for you?”  


Penny guiltily picked up her untouched coffee. It had cooled considerably. She gave the waiter a big smile. “No, thank you.” When the waiter left she looked back at Brahms. “Um. I forgot the question.”  


Looking flustered, Brahms laughed and looked back down at his notes. “Er, are there any artists you'd--”  


“Oh, right! Right! Um. Gimmie a second.” She took a sip of her coffee and was relieved that it was still very warm. She mulled over the possibilities, thinking back to books she'd liked reading when she'd been a kid. “Well... I think Quentin Blake. I liked his illustrations in Roald Dahl's work. Especially in The Witches. And Edward Gorey is pretty great. My grandmother got me a copy of The Gashleycrumb Tinies when I graduated college and it's had pride of place on my shelf ever since. His alphabet books are really good, too. I don't really see myself ever drawing like either of them since I don't think I'd be able to imbue the characters with the personality they could.”  


“Would you ever consider--” A loud siren suddenly went off and a police car went by, followed by two more, then an aid car. The diners all looked up in vague interest then went back to their meals as if nothing happened. “Er.”  


Penny gave him a sympathetic smile. “London. Busy town, huh?”  


“Er. Yes. Is it your first time here?”  


“Uh huh.”  


“Does it live up to expectations?” Brahms asked.  


“Yeah, it does. I've watched a lot of British television, recent stuff too, so I wasn't expecting Jane Austen's London or like, chimney sweeps dancing around lamp posts and that sort of thing. I loved Mary Poppins when I was little.”  


Brahms laughed. “So did I. I was convinced that if I could only learn to snap my fingers, I'd be able to clean my room just like the children could.”  


Penny sputtered a laugh into her coffee, making it fleck onto her glasses. Brahms looked down when she swore and took her glasses off to clean them with a little cloth she had in her handbag. When she'd finished and put them back on, the waiter returned with Brahms's tea.  


“Right,” Brahms said, stirring his drink. “So. Any--”  


“Wait,” Penny said impulsively. “I think we're probably going to be interrupted eighty more times, don't you think?”  


“I don't know about eighty,” Brahms said and then cleared his throat uncomfortably. “But if you want to reschedule--”  


“No, no of course not. I was just going to suggest...” She bit her lip and almost lost her nerve but the hopeful look on his face gave her courage. “Maybe we could just finish our drinks and talk like normal people? Then maybe we could go back to my hotel room and finish the interview.”  


Brahms stared at her for a long moment and she wondered if he suspected what she really wanted to do. Or if he wanted to do what she wanted to do but was assuming she didn't want to and was going to accept her at her word.  


Finally, he said slowly, “All right then. That sounds fine.”  


“Good!” Penny smiled brightly. If Chris could let blue-haired women kiss him in public and sit back while it got posted all over the internet, she could invite an attractive Phantom of the Opera-type Englishman back to her hotel. She wasn't going to pine over him forever and Brahms was... interesting.  


He picked his phone up and turned off the recording. “So. Er.”  


Penny gave him a little flirty smile. “Tongue tied? You were doing so well earlier.”  


“Well, I'd planned all of that,” he said, shrugging. “I'm not as good at off the cuff conversation.”  


She folded her arms on the table and tilted her head to the side. “I can help you.”  


“How?” he asked.  


“Why don't I ask you questions instead?” He suddenly looked panicked and Penny felt a wave of concern for him. “Or not? Um, I'm sorry. I... I wouldn't get personal or anything. I just...”  


He appeared to will himself to calm down and gave her a tight smile. “No, it's fine. Ask your questions, Penny.”  


“Kay.” Penny sat back in her seat. “Are you seeing anyone?”  


He stared at her blankly. “I'm looking right at you.”  


She giggled and this time she wasn't drinking coffee when it happened. “Noooo! I mean, are you with anyone? Romantically?”  


“Oh! No, I'm not.” He sipped his tea and looked embarrassed.  


“What made you want to interview me?” Penny asked.  


“Er. I don't... I just...” His face was entirely red now. “I felt like... we should have met by now. That we've only just missed each other our whole lives. I wanted to stop wondering about you.”  


Penny wasn't really sure what to make of that answer. “So I'm the great unknown?”  


“Well, at first maybe. After I did some research on you, I know more than I did before.”  


That sounded kind of creepy but then, he couldn't exactly go into an interview blind. “What do you know about me, then?”  


He sucked in a breath and then recited, “You were orphaned at the age of five when your parents died in an auto accident. You were raised by your grandmother, Morgana Brooks, the author who wrote Seven Days in a Ditch and What the Barber Saw, among other novels. You attended Western Washington University and majored in Art with a minor in Art History. While there, you worked part time at the daycare center. You love children and hope to have a few of your own someday. You've built your career based on your own merits without riding on your grandmother's coat tails or famous name and your favorite films are Labyrinth and Beetlejuice.”  


Penny shouted a laugh that startled the people sitting immediately around them. “How do you know my favorite movies?!”  


“You gave an interview for your college newspaper to promote an art show. The student interviewer randomly asked you what your favorite films were and those were your answers.”  


She shook her head in disbelief. “I'd forgotten about that. Oh my god. I feel so unmysterious and basic to hear myself broken down that simply.”  


He looked distressed which was a little adorable but also pathetic. “Oh, I didn't mean--”  


“It's fine.” She waved away his concern. “But anyway. Are you ready to go?”  


“Er.” He looked at his half full drink and then at her mostly full mug. “You haven't finished your--”  


Casually, she took the mug and spilled the coffee to the ground, eliciting a gasp from the woman at the next table. “Would you look at that, all done.”  


Brahms took out his wallet and left a few bills on the table. “Let's go then.”  


Penny excitedly hopped up and took the arm he offered her and they wove their way through the tables while she pointed the direction they needed to walk in. She was about to have her very first hook-up and she was both nervous and excited. And also, she was the mystery girl he'd been wondering about all his life. She felt like Zooey Deschanel in anything she'd ever been in.


	9. Chapter 9

As they walked, Brahms started having second thoughts. Penny might want sex. Brahms wasn't quite ready for that. Any time his mind had turned to sexy thoughts about Penny, his brain threw him back into that moment in the dark, Lilah on top of him and his hands squeezing the life out of her throat. The all too familiar cold was starting to spread through his chest and stomach and he felt violent hatred toward his cousin. Leave it to Ben to ruin this wonderful moment with Penny, too. She held so trustingly to his arm and chattered on sweetly and Brahms felt guilty for not attending to what she'd been saying.  


“Hmm?” he asked, hoping she wouldn't pick up on his change of heart.  


She blinked her bright blue eyes up at him. “Oh, nothing. I kind of just ramble when I'm--”  


“When you're...?”  


“Well. Nervous.” She quickly added, “_You_ don't make me nervous. It's just, I'm not used to interviews and you were cuter than I was expecting, so I didn't plan on inviting you back to my room.”  


“You think I'm cute?” Brahms asked, startled. He'd avoided mirrors for years and when he looked in them now, he tried not to look for too long. Just enough time to fruitlessly smooth down his hair or make sure he didn't have toothpaste dried around his mouth or chin. He hated looking at his scars, looking at them reminded him of how his mother had flinched from him when he'd attempted to hug her, right after the fire. He'd been in pain and he'd needed her more than he ever had before and she'd rejected him. It still hurt. But hearing that Penny found him attractive... It didn't magically cure that years long hurt but it did put a little balm on it.  


“I do.” She smiled brightly at him. “This is where you tell me that I'm cute, too.”  


He chuckled. “Modest.”  


“You don't have to mean it. It's just polite to repay the compliment.”  


His amusement faded. “Pen, you aren't merely 'cute.' You're lovely.”  


She seemed thrown by his sincere reply and they walked quietly for a block or so until they finally reached her hotel. A doorman nodded his head to them and held the door open. Penny nodded back and said hello and Brahms stared around the lobby in unabashed interest. He hadn't been in a hotel in years, not since family vacations to the sea side when he'd been a small child. Everything was tastefully elegant, the kind of place his mother would have approved of wholeheartedly. The thought that his boots might scuff the white marble floor made him glance quickly over his shoulder and he let his breath out in a whoosh of relief when the floor still looked pristine.  


They took the elevator up to one of the top floors and Penny took his hand now, leading him to the door of her suite. He noticed her hands shook a little as she used her key card to open the door. She led the way in and he paused, admiring how big the room was, the flat screen TV on the wall, the crystal chandelier in the dining area.  


Penny gestured to the kitchen area with marble counter tops. “Do you want anything to drink?”  


“No.” Brahms cleared his throat. “We just had...”  


“Right. Should we sit down?”  


There was a large, black leather sofa that looked comfortable and proved to be just so when Brahms sat down. Penny curled up beside him and removed her boots and then her jacket, shaking her hair out. He admired the fall of golden hair around her shoulders and he felt the ice inside him thaw just a tiny bit.  


“So, ah, anyway, where were we...” Brahms fumbled his phone out of his pocket and started looking for his notes.  


Penny reached over and touched his wrist. The light touch stopped him and he looked a question into her eyes.  


She tilted her head. “Once you've asked your questions, you're all through with me, aren't you?”  


“Well, ah, that's... that's one way of looking at it,” Brahms said. “But...”  


“But if you don't get to finish the interview, you'll have to see me again. Right?”  


He nodded slowly and said. “... right.”  


“Then no further questions, Mr. Heelshire.” Then she leaned toward him and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. When he turned his head to catch her mouth completely with his, she scooted closer and wove her arms around his neck. Thankfully, all those dreams had prepared him for this and he was able to kiss back properly. He fitted his hands neatly at her waist and opened his mouth to her exploration. She still tasted like coffee though she'd barely touched her drink before pouring it out onto the sidewalk. Her tongue flicked against his and his cock stirred in response. The way she kissed was playful and flirty, demanding a response from him. It wasn't an option to just sit back and be kissed when kissing Penny. She wanted active participation, someone to play with.  


She pulled back to nuzzle his temple and murmured, “Do you want to stay awhile?”  


He swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. “Uh huh.”  


“Then take this off.” She tugged at his jacket.  


With no further prompting, Brahms peeled it off and Penny's eyes lit with admiration, seeing the black cashmere jumper Mildred had picked out for him. Penny ran her hands over his chest and smiled up at him before leaning in for more kisses. Brahms ran his hands along her sides, making her shiver. He admired the swell of her hips and then daringly traced his fingers down her thigh, starting to go to her inner thigh before turning the caress upward again to her waist. He knew how he could make her go wild, though. He just had to bide his time, wait for the right moment...  


Penny drew back to breathe, nuzzling his temple again while hugging him. “You smell so nice...”  


He smirked humorlessly, remembering a time not so long ago when that very much wasn't true. But now was the moment. While Penny wasn't distracting him with her exquisite mouth, he kissed along her neck until he found the spot. The spot that sent her hormones into overdrive. He knew he found it when Penny let out a low, sexy moan and shuddered.  


“Mmmm,”she cupped the back of his head and whispered achingly, “Baby...”  


Brahms kept attacking the spot with lips and tongue, feathering light kisses and then flicking his tongue over her skin, alternating until she was panting loudly, humping against his leg while whimpering.  


Gently, he pushed her back on the sofa and she cried out at being parted from him. “Shhh,” he whispered and slid down her tights. Her panties came down as well, the fabric all twisting together but he managed to get them off her legs in three efficient tugs.  


Still blissed out, Penny flung one arm over her head and held her breast in her other hand. “Wait,” she breathed. “I don't think we're ready for...”  


“I can't just work you up and walk away,” Brahms said lightly. “That wouldn't be very gentlemanly at all.” He flipped up her dress and oh. Her pussy was so pink and swollen, glistening with her juices. He lowered his head and licked softly over her slit.  


Her hips bucked. One thing Penny loved more than steamy make outs was someone going down on her. He peppered kisses over her folds, teasing her, until her desperate whimpers led him to her clit where he proceeded to lick and kiss the way he had her mouth earlier. Her hands sank into his curls, threading between her fingers as he worked over her. He looked up her body and saw her nipples standing erect through her clothing, her face flushed and eyes shut tight, head grinding back into the sofa while her mouth worked. Every part of her was trembling.  


“Mmm,” Brahms murmured and was rewarded with another whimper and her whispering his name on a shaky breath. He felt her thighs beginning to tense and knew she was close so he lapped a little more quickly at her clit, not daring to change anything else in how he moved so he wouldn't throw off her climax. _Updownupdownupdownupdown_  


“Unnnghh!” Penny's thighs clamped on either side of his head and started actively grinding against his face as she came. The last of the aftershocks sent her trembling and sagging backwards again. “Fuck,” she slurred out and parted her thighs so he could move.  


Brahms hovered over her a moment and said gently, “Penny?”  


Her eyes were closed, a blissful smile on her face. “Hmmm?”  


“Will you have dinner with me tonight?”  


She opened her eyes and gave him a sparkly smile that took his breath away. “Yeah. Come get me at 6:30.”  


“I will.” He pressed a light kiss to her lips and rose from the sofa. His cock ached and he was ready to go home and wank off in the shower. “Bye, Penny.”  


He was halfway to the door when he heard, “Wait?” He turned back to her and she was off the sofa, dashing to him lightly in her bare feet. She did a little hop up and he caught her easily, her legs wrapping around his waist. She burrowed her face into his neck and left a few kisses there before whispering in his ear, “I want to make you feel good, too. It's not nice to take without giving.”  


Running his hands over her bare legs, he murmured, “You do make me feel good. More than you could ever know.” He raised a hand to her chin and gently tilted her face up to kiss her properly.  


“You taste like me,” she said dreamily and it was all he could do not to spin around and pin her against the door, fuck her hard against the wood while she screamed his name. “Stay?”  


He wanted to. God, he wanted to. But this was already moving fast. Too fast. She'd just gotten out of a serious relationship and he didn't want to be the fling she had on holiday. “If I do that, you might not respect me in the morning.”  


She giggled and drew back to look into his face, her hands cupped behind his neck. “Okay. I should work on my sketches, anyway. I may as well do the work I'm getting paid for, right?”  


He nodded, face very sober and serious. “Absolutely. At least until you ride my face again.”  


Adorably, her face turned pink but her eyes sparkled again. “Can't wait.”  


Brahms gently set her on her feet. “I'll see you later.”  


“See ya,” she said breathlessly.  


He managed to open the door without his hands shaking too badly, threw one last casual smile over his shoulder and left the room. When the door was closed, he walked halfway down the hall before having to sag against a wall, overcome. He'd gone down on Penny. Her taste, the taste of peaches, still lingered on his lips. Grinning stupidly, he closed his eyes and relived the moment until he heard the elevator and then straightened up and tried not to look like a besotted fool. Judging by the bemused looks the old pensioners getting off of the lift gave him, he wasn't terribly successful.

~*~

Once Penny's legs stopped feeling like rubber, she got up and went to her desk. She took out her sketchpad and got to work on Matthew fucking Danson's stupid story illustrations. She started to draw the little boy, Milo, and realized she was drawing him the same way she'd attempted twice already and had Danson sneer at. What was she doing wrong? She scowled down at Milo's gap-toothed grin, his cowlick, the way she'd drawn him with his tag hanging out the back of his shirt. She'd given this little shit loads of personality, so what was she doing wrong?  


Her mind drifted to Brahms and she started to smile. She'd never had anyone go down on her that skillfully before. Well, not on the first go around at least. It was like he'd done more than just research on her work but where was he going to find out how she liked to be licked? Not wanting to get all hot and bothered again, she wanted to save some of that for tonight, she let her thoughts drift to the interview. He really had done a good job, asking her interesting questions beyond giving her the opportunity to plug her new project. That question about influences whose art she didn't necessarily try to emulate...  


She looked back down at her drawing of Milo, then turned to a fresh page. She thought, _How would Quentin Blake draw this?_ and got going. She kept the little details that made her work her own, she loved little details, but she let go of the realism she preferred and went for a more cartoony look. Even the backgrounds got the cartoon treatment, door frames slightly crooked, everything on just a bit of a slant. It was a challenge but when she got going, she was starting to have a lot of fun, especially when she got to the hell hound that chases Milo down the school hallway. She made the dog's eyes bulge so big they popped off the dog's head.  


Her phone rang around 4:30 and she stopped, surprised at how much time had passed. Her hand hurt like a mother and she gave it a shake, hissing softly, before picking up her phone. Her best friend Emily was calling, probably just now waking up back in Portland.  


“Hey, Em.”  


“Hey! How's England?”  


“It's nice. Still getting used to the time difference but I'm sleeping better now at least.”  


“Oh! Did I call at a bad time? I couldn't remember--”  


“I'm eight hours ahead of you, I'm good.”  


“Okay, cool.” Emily sighed. “I just wanted to check in with you. I'm sorry I didn't call sooner. Bobby's mom got hurt at work so it's been crazy. I still took care of Mungojerrie, though. He never missed a meal.”  


Penny laughed. “That's all he cares about. What happened to Bobby's mom?”  


They talked for awhile about Emily's “maybe one day” mother in law, who Emily didn't exactly get along with. Penny sympathized but couldn't really relate; Chris's family had loved her. She'd been looking forward to being a member of their family one day and then he had to go and....  


When they'd wrapped up all that needed to be said about Bobby's mom, Penny wanted to distract herself so blurted, “I've met someone.”  


“Wow, already?” Emily said, sounding impressed. “It's been just barely a week. Who is he?”  


“Believe it or not, he's the nephew of one of my grandmother's friends. His aunt was this journalist my grandma befriended years ago and they were really super close. Anyway, he wants to be a journalist too so his aunt set me and him up for an interview and...”  


“More than an interview happened?”  


“Uh huh.” Penny bit her lip. “Way more.”  


“Oh, wow.”  


“Not like. You know. Wild sex or anything, but some stuff happened. Really nice stuff.”  


Emily laughed. “Either tell me what happened or stop hinting at it.”  


“Okay, okay. I'm seeing him tonight for dinner. Em, he's so cute, I don't know what to do with myself.”  


“You sound like you're doing fine already,” Emily said. “Besides, it's not like you're gonna marry this guy. It's just dinner. Don't work yourself up, okay?”  


She exhaled a sigh. “Right. Right. You're right. I've always sucked at this dating thing, haven't I?”  


“No.”  


“You're my best friend. That's what you're supposed to say.”  


“Yeah, I know all my lines. You do, too. You always take my side when I get to bitchin' about Bobby's mom.”  


Penny laughed. “Well, she's kind of a bitch to you. Anyone would take your side over hers. It helps that I love you tons, though.”  


“I love you, too. I have to get ready since we're going to visit _her_ again. Tell me all about your dinner later, okay?”  


“Sure. And you tell me every passive aggressive thing she says so we can dissect it.”  


“Deal. Bye, Pen.”  


“Bye, Em.”  


Penny glanced at the time and realized she should probably get ready for her date. Maybe even go out first and buy a pack of condoms. With a little shiver of excitement, she hopped up and grabbed her handbag from the closet.


	10. Chapter 10

Brahms figured this was as ready as he was going to be. He'd prefer his hair not be so wild and curly and considered perhaps going to a hairdresser to see if they could fix the problem. Otherwise, he was in a well-fitting dark blue suit with a gray shirt and a dark blue tie. Mildred had said it suited his coloring and he was willing to defer judgment to her. Once he lint rolled his suit for the third time, he felt he should probably be on his way before he found something else to worry about. He'd spent the afternoon researching condoms on the internet and had bought his first pack (hopefully not his last) and had a couple in his wallet. He knew that wouldn't do for long-time storage but would be fine tonight. After his afternoon with Penny, he was a little less nervous about sex; thinking about it (and he'd thought about it all day) didn't make his insides freeze anymore.  


He got in his car and drove to Penny's hotel. He hated driving at night but at least the city was well-lit so he wasn't quite as nervous. At least, not about driving. At the hotel, he left the car with the valet and told the boy that he'd be back again soon. As he strode into the lobby, he allowed himself to entertain the notion that he was fooling everyone into thinking he was a functional, successful adult.  


_I'm in the lobby_ he texted Penny and briefly considered sending an emoji. Would a cool, successful grown man send emojis? Probably not.  


_I'll be right down_ was Penny's response followed by a winking emoji. Okay, apparently she used emojis so maybe he could as well? But in an ironic kind of way. He slid his phone into his pocket and looked around the lobby. It was bustling with activity, people heading out to dinner, meeting up with their parties. Lots of friendly exclaiming and hand shaking, the occasional back pat. Brahms found that these displays tended to make him feel lonely but right now, waiting for Penny, he felt like he was a part of things for once.  


“Hi, handsome.”  


Brahms looked away from his lobby musings and gaped up at Penny. She stood next to his chair with a sparkly smile on her face, her hair smooth and shiny as it brushed her shoulders. She was dressed in a dark blue dress with a matching shawl draped over her shoulders. The dress hugged every inch of her, displaying her hourglass shape which drew a few admiring looks from some of the men nearby.  


He quickly got to his feet. “You... you look....”  


“We match,” Penny said brightly, reaching out to gently tug on his tie.  


He looked down and laughed lightly. “Yes. Great minds, you know?”  


She smoothed his tie down and then stepped a little closer. “Where are you taking me?”  


“A new Italian restaurant just opened not far from here. I thought we could give it a try. Does that sound all right?”  


Penny blinked at him and then took the arm he offered. “Um, yeah? Italian is only my favorite food. Did that come up in your research?”  


“No.” He smiled over at her. “Maybe you could recommend something once we see the menu? I've had spaghetti before, otherwise I've never had much Italian food. My mother was very much of the English tradition when it came to our meals. Lots of roasts, boiled vegetables. That kind of thing.”  


“I'd be glad to.” Once out of the lobby, the valet had the car ready for them and Brahms helped Penny inside before tipping the valet and then circling around to the driver's side.  


The ride to the restaurant was quiet, except for the string quartet he had playing low on the stereo. Penny didn't share his love of classical music but she didn't hate it either, and even remarked that the piece they were listening to was pretty. In response, he turned the volume up a little and she smiled at him.  


Another valet took care of the car once they arrived at the restaurant and they were immediately shown to their table which Brahms had reserved almost a week ago in the hope that he'd even get this date with Penny. He hadn't wanted to leave anything to chance, like not being able to get a table at a new restaurant that Penny would most likely enjoy. Mildred had actually given him the idea and he planned to send her a big thank you flower bouquet for the tip.  


The maitre d' took their jackets and murmured for Penny's shawl. Once she removed that bit of fabric, Brahms saw the gown she wore was strapless and dipped low in the front. It took every gentlemanly instinct he had not to gape stupidly at her cleavage but he managed it. Penny caught his interested glance and wasn't upset by it since her smile didn't dim in the slightest, and that was the important thing.  


They opened their menus and started to peruse their options. Brahms scanned everything and started feeling uncomfortable. He didn't like restaurants much and had a bit of a simple pallet, not really liking complex flavors or anything different from the “English tradition” as he'd described it earlier. He hoped he wouldn't look the fool once he'd ordered something and ended up hating it. Maybe she'd chalk up his picky eating to nerves?  


“So, ah, what looks good?” Brahms asked, hoping he didn't sound as miserable as he was starting to feel.  


Penny didn't look up from the menu. “Depends on what you like. You said you've had spaghetti. Did you like it?”  


“Er. Well, not really. I, ah, I didn't like the sauce much.”  


She gave him a little smile. “My best friend Emily hates tomatoes so I get it. Well, then I'd say... you like chicken, right?”  


“Yes.”  


“Chicken alfredo. You still get the noodly experience only it comes with a cheesy sauce.”  


Brahms smiled. “That sounds good, actually.”  


“And I'm going to have the lasagna. Hmm, I wonder what wines they have?” Penny plucked the wine menu up and started paging through it. Brahms got a little more nervous. He knew nothing about wines. He should have thought to research it but it had slipped his mind. He'd never really drank before.  


The waiter arrived to take their orders and Brahms relaxed a little when Penny asked for a wine recommendation. The young man rattled off a list and Penny considered the options, glanced over at Brahms's blank face, and chose something that made the man murmur, “very good, ma'am” and finally leave.  


“I don't know a whole lot about wines,” Penny confessed, voice low. “I know I like drinking them but I never know what pairs with what. I always ask for the waiter's input.”  


“Me too,” Brahms said with considerable relief.  


Penny sat back and said, “So! Um, you kind of know all the basics about me and... I don't know a whole lot about you. Like, where did you grow up?”  


He felt his heart sink. This was going to go nowhere good. He'd have to either admit to having no real life or start lying. Or maybe he could give enough truth and information without a lot of specific detail. “I grew up out in the country. Very isolated place. Mum didn't like me to play with other children so I spent a lot of time alone. We have a lot of land and my dad would take me on walks around the property. It was nice spending time with him; I wish I'd appreciated it more.”  


“Oh,” Penny said softly. “Does that mean...?”  


“My parents are no longer living.”  


“I'm sorry.” Penny reached for his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Mine aren't either. I know it isn't easy.”  


Brahms cleared his throat and shifted a little in his seat. “We don't have to talk about--”  


“Right,” she agreed and pulled her hand away. “If you ever need to talk about it, though, I'll always listen.” She saw his discomfort and glanced away, acting as if she was admiring the room, though she'd done plenty of that when they first walked in.  


When he felt as if he'd pulled himself together, Brahms asked, “Did you get much work done today?”  


Her whole face lit up. “Yes! Actually, I should thank you for that. One of your questions made me start looking at the whole project differently and I got several pages done. I had to stop to give my hand a rest but I think I'm really on the right track. I can't wait to show the author. He hasn't really liked what I've given him so far.”  


“Why?” Brahms was baffled. Her work was beautiful and rich with detail. When he'd picked up her first book, he'd spent long minutes poring over the illustrations, finding little things to admire like funny titles on the spines of books or detailed borders around simpler pages so the reader would still have lots to look at.  


“I don't know.” Penny suddenly looked unhappy and it hurt Brahms's heart to see. “I guess it's just a personal preference thing. I was ready to give the whole project up but you inspired me to give a whole different style a try. Maybe I'll show you later.”  


“I'd love to see it,” he said honestly.  


She looked warily at his face and when she saw his sincerity, she allowed herself a tiny smile. “Sounds good.”  


He smiled back and then looked down at the table. He hoped that it wasn't obvious this was his first date. He was sure he was making lots of beginner's mistakes and regretted not looking up simple, non upsetting conversation topics for first dates. So far they'd covered his parents' deaths and her struggles with work. Not exactly a thrilling fun fest. He had to find a way to turn this around.  


Penny leaned forward and chose a bread stick from the basket in front of them. “God, I love bread. When I was a kid, I'd read stories about prisoners being fed bread and water and I thought that didn't sound so bad.”  


Brahms laughed and took a stick for himself. “I doubt the bread was as nice as this.”  


“No, of course not, but I didn't know that when I was six. I was picturing my grandmother's homemade bread smeared with butter.” Penny bit into her bread stick and her eyes fluttered closed.  


“I've always been partial to a bit of jam on bread,” Brahms said.  


Penny's eyes opened. “Oooh, yeah that's pretty nice. We'd have that sometimes in winter from the jam we made and bottled up over the summer. Making your own foods and stuff is really the thing to do in Portland.” She laughed. “I never buy soap from the store since I have so many friends who make it themselves.”  


“So you can have them custom-make scents?” Brahms pondered that. “I wonder what kind I'd want...”  


“You strike me as a green tea kind of guy. Maybe sandalwood.” She tilted her head to the side, considering. “So long as it's earthy.”  


“I'm earthy?” Brahms asked, not knowing what to make of that.  


She smiled. “You grew up in the country, didn't you?”  


That made him laugh. “What kind of soaps do you like, then?”  


“Oh, I'm really basic. I like lavender and vanilla.” She shrugged. “They're just nice and simple, not too fussy.”  


The waiter arrived with their dinners and carefully set the plates in front of them. Then he opened the wine and poured each of them a glass. Penny thanked him warmly and after ascertaining that they didn't need anything else, the waiter gave a little bow and went away.  


Brahms cautiously tried a mouthful of noodle and alfredo sauce and was relieved to find that he liked it. He glanced over at Penny cutting into her lasagna and watched her take her first bite. Her face lit up, making him grin.  


“Good?”  


“Yes!” She beamed at him. “Good job finding this place. I didn't want to sound like a snob but I wasn't that optimistic about English Italian food. I spent a semester abroad in Rome and the experience kind of ruined me for Italian cuisine anywhere _but_ Italy.” She made a face. “You know what, that sounds really snobby. I'm sorry.”  


Brahms shrugged. “I don't think you're a snob. Of course Italians would be better at making their food than anyone else. Stands to reason. And we English know the best how to boil all the flavor out of vegetables.”  


Penny was starting to sip her wine and quickly held the glass under her mouth as she laughed. “God! Stop being funny when I'm in the middle of drinking something!”  


They laughed a little more and then focused on their dinners, eating in happy silence. Brahms was relieved to find that his discomfort had faded. His mask had drawn a few interested glances but no one was staring. He'd ended up liking the food and the wine was quite good so he didn't embarrass himself or Penny by suddenly spitting anything out in disgust. He'd done that once as a child when he'd first tried carrot cake.  


Once they finished, Penny sighed in satisfaction. “This was nice. They give you much bigger portions in America but this was just enough to satisfy. I'm a fan.”  


“So do you just eat until you're sick in America?” Brahms looked at his plate. He felt full and he didn't think the restaurant had skimped on his serving at all.  


She made a pffft sound with her mouth and shook her head. “No, of course we don't. We're big into left-overs. We just get a takeaway box and then what we didn't finish becomes lunch the next day.”  


“Ah. Yes, that makes sense.”  


The waiter returned and they ordered cannoli for dessert. Brahms's nervousness returned and figured he'd have a few bites and if he didn't like it, he'd just say he was full. While he rubbed his hands nervously on his thighs, he looked over at Penny to see her watching him with quiet admiration on her face.  


“What?” he asked stupidly.  


“I didn't tell you how nice you look,” Penny said, softly.  


“You still haven't,” he pointed out.  


Penny giggled, pressing a hand to one of her pink cheeks. They'd each had only a glass of wine and it had brought out the color in her face, making her adorably flushed. “You're right, as always. You look really nice tonight, Brahms. Handsome even.”  


He swallowed, suddenly overcome. He never thought anyone would call him handsome. “Thank you. You look beautiful. Especially when you smile. Your eyes...” He felt like an overwrought fool and stumbled. “Um. Your eyes sparkle. When you smile. I... I like it.”  


She looked charmed and said softly, “Well, thank you, Brahms.”  


Their dessert arrived and it was relief number two of the night that Brahms liked it. They each got a little dish with three cannoli so even if he hadn't cared for them much, it wouldn't have been difficult to finish most of them. After that, the waiter discreetly brought the check and Brahms handed over his credit card. He'd been watching the other tables all night so he'd know what to do when it came time to pay.  


Penny eyed him hungrily as they waited and before long, the credit card and their jackets were returned and she was holding his hand as they left the restaurant, fingers linked together and her head on his shoulder. Brahms helped her into the car and she gave him a sexy little smile complete with a heart-stopping eye sparkle.  


When they returned to the hotel, Brahms walked her into the lobby and opened his mouth to wish her goodnight when she suddenly said, “Walk me up?”  


“Of course.”  


She continued to lean against him in the elevator, rubbing her thumb along his while they watched the numbers go up. The simple touch was giving him goosebumps all over and without even thinking about it, he gave the top of her head a light kiss.  


The elevator dinged and the doors opened onto her floor. They walked hand in hand to her room and again, Brahms opened his mouth to say goodbye, but this time Penny leaned up and gave him a slow, hot kiss that turned his blood molten hot. He scrabbled at her hips, kissing back and pulling her close, wanting to feel her over every inch of him.  


She tore her mouth free and gasped out, “Come inside?”  


He grunted an agreement and she unlocked the door, the two of them stumbling inside while still kissing urgently. Penny peeled his coat off of him and he did the same for her, then happily tossed her shawl aside.  


“I know it's important to talk and know each other better,” Penny said breathlessly, then hopped up into his arms, legs going around his waist. “But this was all I could think about all day.”  


“This?” he asked as he cupped her ass, pressing his forehead to hers.  


“Uh huh,” she murmured dreamily, threading her fingers through his hair. “You're so...”  


“So?”  


“Mmm.” She went back to kissing him, giving up on being articulate. When he chuckled into her mouth she whimpered and started to grind against him.  


Brahms broke the kiss to walk them into the bedroom where she'd left the bedside light on low. He tossed her lightly down onto the bed and then crawled over her, eagerly kissing and sucking at her exposed cleavage. She gasped and gripped his hair now in two tight handfuls which both hurt and made him hard as a rock. He roughly bit at her nipple through her dress and she arched off the bed, calling out his name.  


Snarling, he reached behind her for her zipper and the dress fell away, revealing that she wore a corset and a tiny scrap of fabric between her legs. And stockings held up by garters. He could only stare at her, hardly believing what he was seeing. The dream Penny had been more of a simple underwear kind of girl. This felt like he'd gotten one up on the Mirror Brahms and he smugly admired her as she squirmed beneath him, reaching up for his jacket to push it off.  


“You're too dressed,” she said. “It's not fair. Catch up.”  


He laughed but then she suddenly yanked him to his side on the bed and flipped him onto his back. She climbed on top of him and straddled him, starting to tug at his tie whilst unbuttoning his shirt. His chest and gut immediately froze up and dampened all desire.  


Penny noticed he wasn't touching her anymore and that his breath was coming in quick, shallow pants. “Brahms?” When he didn't answer, she looked worried and got off of him. She knelt beside him on the bed, not touching him. “Is everything okay?”  


He tried to clear his throat but couldn't. “I...”  


“We don't have to do anything,” she said gently. She looked into his eyes and she looked so kind, so understanding, that his vision blurred. “I'd like it if you stayed the night but if you have to leave, I understand.”  


Hot tears spilled down his cheeks. So hot while the inside of him felt so cold. “I don't want to leave.”  


“Then you don't have to.” She gave him a tender smile and got off the bed. She went to the dresser and pulled out an over-sized t-shirt. “I'm gonna go get ready for bed. And... I'm sorry I came on so strong.” Looking guilty, Penny went into the bathroom and softly closed the door.  


Brahms drew in a shaky breath and dashed angrily at his tears. Penny thought this was her fault. It wasn't. He hated Ben so much in that moment, he wanted to hunt him down and kill him. Slit his throat and watch him slowly bleed out. He'd do it and feel righteous, like he had when he'd killed Cole. Sniffling, Brahms sat up and continued to undress. He hung his suit up carefully in the closet next to Penny's dresses and took a moment to lightly touch a wine colored sweater dress that seemed familiar, then crawled into bed.  


A few minutes later the door opened and Penny came out in a big gray t-shirt that had WWU printed on the front of it and hung to mid thigh. Her face was scrubbed of makeup and she had her glasses on. His heart suddenly constricted when she smiled at him, looking relieved. She must have thought he'd leave while she was in the other room.  


“I like to read a little before bed, is that okay?” Penny asked.  


Brahms nodded.  


“Okay.” She gave him a little smile and got into bed on the other side. She picked up a book from the bedside table and opened it.  


“I'm sorry,” he whispered.  


She looked up at him and reached for his hand, giving it a little squeeze. “Don't be.”  


“Can I at least...?”  


“What?” she asked, looking concerned.  


Brahms leaned close and kissed her, slow and soft. She dropped her book, forgotten, to her side and lightly pressed a hand to his face, the side with the mask.  


“Sweetie, you don't have to do this...”  


“I know. I want to.” He continued to kiss her, slow and sweet and the ice began to melt. He could smell her arousal and it made him hard again. She wasn't the only one who had been thinking about this all day. He broke the kiss to lift up her sleep shirt and she sat up a little to help him tug it off. He stared at her exposed breasts. He knew they would fill his hands perfectly and reached out to cup one, looking into her eyes.  


Penny shivered. “Brahms? I-I really...”  


“What?” he asked softly.  


She swallowed and then whispered, “I really want you but if you need to stop at all, we can stop, okay? I don't want you to feel pressured because of how I'm responding to you. It's just... you're so good at this and I don't know how you know exactly what I like, how I like it and-”  


He gave her a quick kiss and smiled reassuringly. “There's no pressure. I'm doing this because I want to.” He took her hand and slid it inside his boxer shorts, letting her fingers curl around his erection. It felt so good, he had to close his eyes and grit his teeth to fight coming on the spot. “God, Pen.”  


Penny began to stroke him and he rested his forehead against hers, panting and thrusting against her hand. She murmured softly to him, nuzzling his nose with hers. When it got to be too much, when he thought he was going to come for sure, he reached down and carefully grasped her wrist to stop her.  


“I have condoms in my wallet,” he rasped.  


Her face lit up. “I have some in the bedside drawer!” She gave him a gentle push and he rolled to his side to let her up so she could scoot across the king sized mattress and pull open the drawer of the bedside table. She'd thought to open the box earlier in the day so only had to reach in and triumphantly present him with a foil packet.  


When he plucked it from her fingers and carefully opened it she said, “I bought some today. I wasn't... I really hoped that this would happen tonight and if not tonight, at least sometime soon. I'm not really into casual hookups and this didn't really _feel_ like a hookup but... if you want it to be, it can-”  


“I want to see you again after tonight,” Brahms swore, rolling the condom on. “And after tomorrow and the day after that.”  


Penny's eyes sparkled. “You sure? You might get bored of me.”  


“Never.” He climbed back on top of her and she lay down while giggling, parting her thighs for him.  


“Never say nev-”  


He thrust inside of her all the way to the hilt.

~*~

_Holy fuck_. Brahms was bigger than she'd been expecting. When she'd been jacking him off, she'd noticed his length but hadn't really processed the width and now... She felt very full. Almost to the point of discomfort but she only had to shift her hips a bit and--  


Brahms groaned low in his throat and hung his head, shoulders trembling. Wow, okay, no moving for a bit.  


“Brahms?” Penny whispered. “Are you okay?”  


He whispered all rough and sexy, “You feel like heaven.”  


“Ungh,” she said softly, just barely keeping her hips from bucking. Her thighs trembled where they were wrapped around his waist. God, she wanted him to just pound her but not if it was going to make him come too early.  


“Penny,” he growled low. “Penny, I really want to fuck you.”  


She nipped his shoulder and said huskily in a voice she barely recognized as her own, “Do it.”  


He pulled out almost all the way, just leaving the tip inside and then slammed back inside of her. She saw stars and cried out, clutching onto his back. Normally she liked long, slow glides and work her way up to the rough stuff but he had her so aroused and desperate, she wanted it hard and fast.  


“You're so wet,” he said, his voice dark and gravelly. “Did you think of me today, Pen? Did you make yourself wet thinking of how I tasted you?”  


She ground her head into the pillow and moaned, “Uh huh!”  


“Do you want my tongue again?” he rasped in her ear, roughly thrusting. She could already feel her climax starting, the aching tension ratcheting up and making her mindlessly buck against him, her grasping hands twisting in the sheets under her. “Tell me, Pen.”  


“I want everything!” Penny cried out. “Oh god, I'm so close Brahms, please, please!”  


His hot mouth latched onto her nipple and sucked roughly. She whimpered with longing and then his teeth bit down just right, enough to sting but not cause any pain that would take her out of the moment. The sting went right to her pussy and she wailed, coming hard.  


God, she felt fantastic. All the stress and tension she'd been feeling lately had disappeared for now, just like it had this afternoon when he'd gone down on her. She looked up into his face with a lazy smile as he continued to pump inside of her.  


“Pen,” he said, his voice pleading.  


Unlike him, she had no idea what he could need right now. The realization made her feel selfish, which was weird since she'd only met him that morning. It wasn't as if they'd been dating for years and she still had no idea how to get him off.  


Reaching up, she stroked his curls up off his sweaty forehead. “What do you need? Tell me and I'll do it.”  


His breath got ragged at that, his eyes closing. “Oh, god. Just... just be sweet to me.”  


Her eyes filled with tears. What had this man been through? Based on how skittish and frightened he'd gotten earlier, and what little she'd gleaned from his aunt, something bad. Something really bad. She raised her head and left soft kisses along the side of his flushed face.  


“I'll only ever be sweet to you if that's what you need,” she promised.  


With a whimper, Brahms stiffened and then shuddered all over with the force of his own orgasm. He slumped a little, not quite letting himself sag on top of her, seemingly mindful of squishing her. Not every guy she'd been with had been as considerate. When he got his breath back, he kissed her mouth softly and then withdrew from her body, slipping from the bed to dispose of the condom. As he walked away, Penny rolled onto her side to watch him. He was thin, with sharp hip bones. She could feel the insides of her thighs already aching from where those hip bones had slammed into her repeatedly.  


He came back to bed with an almost bashful look on his face and slipped under the covers. “Is it really all right if I stay the night? I can go if you'd prefer.”  


“Nope.” She snuggled her pillow and smiled at him. “You're staying right here.”  


Relief made his eyes shine and then he adorably pulled the covers up over his mouth to hide a yawn. It made Penny giggle but he still gave her an apologetic look.  


“Sorry, I'm quite tired suddenly.”  


“Gee, I wonder why?” She rose up to an elbow to reach for her lamp. “I'm tired too, Brahms. Let's get some rest and we can have round two when we wake up.”  


“You want to do this with me again?” The light went out and in the darkness, his question made him sound even more vulnerable.  


Penny slid across the bed to him and he gathered her into his arms, wrapping her up tight. She nuzzled his face until she found his mouth and gave him a slow, dreamy kiss. “Yes,” she whispered. “I want to do this with you again. And again and again and again...”  


He buried his face in her hair and they fell asleep like that, all tangled together under the covers.


	11. Chapter 11

Brahms woke reluctantly, lifting his head and scowling towards the bathroom. An insistent tapping came from the mirror. He grit his teeth; he'd made it clear he didn't want to see the other Brahms again. How dare he decide to summon him and expect him to come running?  


He closed his eyes to go back to sleep, pulling Penny closer and smiling when she murmured something into his shoulder. She was everything he'd dreamed of and more; this Penny wasn't anyone he had to share. She was all his. No other Brahms in the back of his consciousness who'd come claim her when he woke up to his own sad world.  


**Brahms,** the other Brahms called, sounding muffled through the closed door. **Look, I know you're awake. Get in here. I'm not going away**.  


With an annoyed sigh, Brahms realized that if he wanted to get any more sleep, he'd have to go in the bathroom and tell Mirror Brahms to sod off. Carefully, he started extricating himself from the sprawl he and Penny had fallen asleep in. She let out a sad sounding breath when he'd gotten loose and he bit his lip a moment, wondering if he should give her a kiss. That might wake her, though. Besides, this was going to be a very short conversation and then he'd be right back before she woke up.  


Brahms considered putting his boxer shorts on and decided that if his mirror was going to show up like this, he deserved to be uncomfortable having to contend with a nude Brahms. Besides, it wasn't as if he had anything the other didn't.  


Carefully, Brahms opened the bathroom door and didn't switch on the light until he was inside with the door shut. He glared into the mirror and there was Mirror Brahms, already glaring right back, his arms folded tightly across his chest. The Mirror Brahms was in a t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair mussed from sleep.  


“I told you that I didn't want to see you anymore,” Brahms hissed.  


**And I told you to go to Mildred**, Mirror Brahms snapped back. **What the hell do you think you're doing?**  


“I'm spending time with the love of my life,” Brahms said, smirking. “Why? You think you should get to have this Penny, too?”  


**Oh my god, you fucking child.** Mirror Brahms rubbed his hands over his face. **This isn't... I don't own Penny and neither do you! You have no business being with her right now!**  


“Why not? She isn't engaged anymore. The idiot dumped her. And she seems interested. I don't see how any of this is your business.”  


**You're a murderer!** Mirror Brahms slammed his hands into the glass and it actually shook, startling Brahms backward. **And if you were serious about redeeming yourself, you'd be trying to find out what happened to Greta! And why aren't you keeping tabs on Ben? If Penny knew about any of this, she'd—”  
**

“She doesn't know,” Brahms growled. “And she's not _going_ to know. You're leaving me alone, you sanctimonious prick. You don't get to accuse me when you're as bad as I am. You were just going to let Lilah--”  


**You wait just one second**, Mirror Brahms said darkly. He leaned a hand on the glass and pointed at Brahms with his other finger. **I did what I could to wake you up. You're a deep sleeper, Brahms. So am I. I'm sorry that happened to you, I truly am, but I'm not going to let you blame me anymore. Ben's the real enemy here and I'm tired of being your scapegoat. Now are you going to look for Greta or not?**  


Brahms folded his arms, scowling mutinously. “What would I need to do?”  


**Well, you should probably go back to the house and look for--**  


The ice solidified in his stomach and rose up his chest to his throat. He shook his head furiously.  


Mirror Brahms' rage fizzled out of him and he looked apologetically into Brahms' eyes. **I'm sorry, I know you don't want to go back there, but you need to. It's where it all began.**  


“I'm going back to bed,” Brahms choked out. “Penny hates waking up alone.”  


**Brahms,** Mirror Brahms said warningly but Brahms switched off the light and walked out of the bathroom.  


Getting back into bed made Penny stir and let out a soft, “Mmm?”  


“Shhh.” Brahms snuggled up against her back, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Go back to sleep, love.”  


Holding her and listening to her breathe helped the ice melt and he returned to his earlier calm, mentally shutting the door on the doubts and worries his Mirror had burdened him with.  


~*~

Penny woke with a hard, male body pressed to her back and for a split second she thought it was Chris. The realization that it wasn't surprised her because she didn't feel disappointment. In fact, all last night, Chris hadn't crossed her mind once. She may have started this thing with Brahms as a response to her ex fiance very publicly moving on with his life but now she was in it just to be with such a mysterious, handsome man.  


“Brahms?” she whispered.  


His grip on her tightened. “Mine,” he growled.  


Whoa. She tapped his arm. “Um, Brahms. I'm mine, okay? Wake up.”  


“Mmmf.” He stirred a little and then said drowsily, “Penny?”  


“Uh huh. Hi.”  


“Hi.” He pressed his forehead to her shoulder and yawned a jaw cracking yawn that made her laugh a little. She still felt uneasy about that weird possessiveness he'd displayed but maybe he'd just been having a weird dream?  


“You know what I really want right now?” Penny asked.  


Brahms nudged her between her legs with his morning erection. “What?”  


“A bath.”  


He was quiet for a long moment and then said uncertainly, “Did you say 'bath'?”  


She nodded. “Yep. Bath. I love a bath in the morning. The water's all warm and we can have bubbles. Let's go. Up.”  


Looking sulky, Brahms sat up and Penny had to bite her lip not to laugh. He was like a disappointed child but didn't he know how sexy bath time could get? She was more than happy to show him.  


Penny gave him an innocent look and said, “Don't you want to help me get clean?” She sat up beside him and ran her hands down her breasts and over her tummy. His face lost its sulky expression and he looked intrigued as he watched the path her hands took. She threw the covers back and hopped out of bed, holding her hands out invitingly to him. He slid over eagerly and took hold of her hands, chuckling as she tugged him out of bed and then led them to the bathroom.  


She switched on the light and then rushed to the big, sunken tub and started to run the water. Then she grabbed the bottle of children's bubble bath she'd purchased the other day and poured a generous amount into the water. She'd had need of a bubble bath and a good cry after a few meetings with Matthew Danson but now she was determined to have a fun bubble bath with a cute, sexy man.  


Penny smiled at him over her shoulder and saw him staring hard into the mirror, face a sickly pale. He gave his head a firm shake and mouthed what was obviously “No.” Her smile faded. What the fuck...?  


“Brahms?” Penny asked, voice low. “Are you okay?”  


He tore his gaze away from the mirror and smiled wanly. “Fine. I just hate my reflection.”  


She glanced at his mask and wondered if he usually slept in it all night or if he'd done so for her benefit. Her heart ached for him. “Come over here, then. There's no mirrors.”  


Brahms darted a glance at the mirror and then came to stand beside her where she crouched next to the tub. He scratched nervously at his belly and Penny noticed some scarring there different from the various burn scars that crisscrossed his body.  


“Get in,” she said, trying to keep her tone light.  


He didn't need anymore prompting and slid into the tub, letting out a low “ahhhh” of satisfaction that made her smile a little. She got in after him, the tub big enough that they could sit facing each other, there being more than enough room for their legs. She'd originally planned to get all over him but now she was starting to feel weird about it. She barely knew him and some stuff about him was making her think she should tread lightly.  


“How did you sleep?” she asked and immediately felt lame.  


“Good.” He scooped up a handful of bubbles and rubbed it along his arm. “You?”  


“It was the best sleep I've had in a long time,” she confessed. He smiled at her and she continued, “I haven't really... I've been pretty miserable up until fairly recently. It made sleep really difficult.”  


“I'm sorry,” Brahms said quietly.  


Penny looked down at the water and said, “I was engaged until a few months ago. My fiance left me and I've been spiraling ever since. We were supposed to start a family together and when that plan went up in flame, I just...” She sniffled and shook her head. “I hate that it still makes me cry.”  


He said nothing, just watched her with his sad, green eyes.  


“But the thing is... As soon as I met you, I started feeling normal again. I was able to think outside of my misery and then later I felt true inspiration and did work that I can actually be proud of.” Penny sighed and continued, “I know we've only just met and I'm not trying to... I just want you to know that I don't want this to be a one-night stand. There's something here and I think you feel it, too. We should explore it. This kind of connection doesn't come along every day.”  


Brahms nodded slowly and said, “I agree.”  


“Good.” She tilted her head to the side. “You may not like your reflection much but I know I love looking at you.”  


Looking flattered and disconcerted he said, “You do?”  


“Yes. You have an interesting face. And you have two of my favorite things: a big nose and a beard.”  


He laughed in surprise. “Have any other favorite things?”  


“Hmmm.” She pretended to think and glided across the water to him and almost straddled his lap but remembered his bad reaction to that last night. Instead, she turned and settled in his lap, facing forward and tucking her head under his chin. She skated her fingers over his arm and said, “Freckles.”  


“Like these ones?” he asked, looking down as she touched him.  


“Mmm hmm, just like those ones.”  


Brahms looped his arms around her and she could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “Isn't it interesting that I just so happen to have these things?”  


“Yeah, weird, huh?” Penny turned her head and kissed his shoulder. “Almost like you were made for me or something.”  


He was quiet a moment and Penny wondered if she'd said the wrong thing but then he said softly, “Maybe I was.”  


“Do you really believe that?” Penny asked. “Like, destiny and soul mates and that sort of thing?”  


He tightened his hold around her waist and bent his head to kiss her neck and ohshit he found the spot. The spot that made her hormones go crazy, the spot that always made her instantly wet. “I believe it,” he said against her spot, making her whimper. “Why else does this feel so right?”  


“Brahms,” she said desperately, not knowing what she was asking for.  


He knew, though. He reached between her legs and started stroking her just right, continuing to kiss her neck. He'd gotten her so worked up he only had to circle her clit a dozen times with his thumb and she was coming. Every orgasm he'd given her felt different from the ones she'd had before. This one felt like skipping up a flight of steps, the pleasure rising bit by bit in little increments, culminating in a burst of emotion that had her turning in his arms and kissing him feverishly.  


“Pen,” he said gently when they finally came up for air. She watched his mouth, liking how swollen his lips looked. “Do you need to work more today?”  


Shit. She sighed and said, “Yeah, I do.”  


He lightly brushed a finger down her cheek, like he was admiring her, and asked, “Text me when you're done? Maybe we could have dinner again.”  


“Wait.” She frowned at him. “Are you leaving now?”  


“Not right now, no. I wanted to ask now while I remembered. Before we got too caught up in the moment.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Your work's important to you and I don't want to get in the way of that.”  


Penny watched him for a moment then said, “Why don't you go home and change and then come hang out here while I work? I doubt I'll be busy until dinner time. You do your thing, I do mine. What do you think?”  


“If you're sure I wouldn't be a distraction,” Brahms said, looking skeptical.  


He'd be a huge distraction. She'd work, then look over and see his mussed hair and sweetly serious face and she'd be pulling him to bed. But the thought of him leaving had made her feel almost bereft. She wasn't used to feeling that way; she loved having her own space. What was it about him that was such a huge draw?  


She looked into his eyes and said, “I don't care if you are, I just want you here.” A brilliant smile lit up his face and she turned back around, cuddling against his chest. “Besides, you didn't want to leave either, did you?”  


“No. Was dreading it a bit, actually.”  


Penny closed her eyes. “Well, you're stuck here with me, now.”  


“Lucky me,” he whispered in her ear, giving her a nuzzle.

~*~

Brahms looked through his entire wardrobe and wondered what he should wear. Penny liked being casual. They were only hanging out in her hotel room so he didn't need to dress up. But she liked seeing him dressed up, that was true. He decided on a pair of jeans for the casual touch and a cranberry colored button-up shirt that had made the saleswoman gasp and say “That's so you!” Sure, she was paid to say that kind of thing but it had sounded genuine at the time.  


He picked up his laptop and put it in its traveling bag. While he wondered if he should pack toiletries or another change of clothes, his phone started ringing.  


It couldn't be Penny. She wasn't clingy, unlike him. He smirked at this bit of self awareness and checked his phone. Mildred. He answered right away.  


“Hi, Aunt Millie.”  


“Brahms! I texted you last night but I guess you didn't get it.”  


He had, he'd just been busy. “Sorry, Millie. I've been with Penny, I wasn't looking at my phone very much.”  


“Oh! You two went to dinner?”  


“Yes.” Brahms said, itching to get off of the phone and go back to Penny.  


“Well, that's lovely. I guess the interview went well, too?”  


Brahms smiled. “We never finished it. The cafe was loud.”  


Mildred clucked her tongue. “She's never going to believe you as a journalist if you don't finish the interview.”  


“I never claimed to be a journalist,” he retorted. “Just that I was interested in being one. She says we'll finish the interview, we just haven't decided when.”  


“Hm,” Mildred said and she packed a lot into that one syllable. “Well, better get on that. An artist wants exposure and she won't like you dilly dallying on publication.”  


“All right, Mildred,” Brahms said tersely. “Is that why you wanted to call me?”  


“No.” Mildred's voice dropped. “I had someone watching the car. Ben's picked it up.”  


“And?”  


“And now we have to know what his next move is. He's not going to take lightly you throwing him out of the house, Brahms. Your cousin enjoys having the upper hand and he's not going to be content to sit back while you live your life.”  


God, he was so tired of Ben. He hadn't seen the asshole in years and now after he suddenly popped up, it was all anyone in his limited circle could talk about. All the more reason to get back to Penny and not have to think about it.  


“Mildred, we have no idea what he's going to do,” Brahms said. “He didn't get the money he wanted and he's not going to get it. We saw the will; whatever doesn't go to you or me gets donated to charity. Dad made sure that none of Mum's family got anything. He'll have to think of some other get rich quick scheme that doesn't involve the Heelshires.”  


“Still,” she said doubtfully. “I've hired an investigator to keep an eye on him. If he goes searching for you, we'll at least have a heads up.”  


That was a bit of relief, come to think of it. Brahms nodded slowly. “All right. You know best, Mildred.”  


“I do,” she insisted. “That boy will want his revenge but I'm not going to let him have it. Not after everything he's put you through.”  


Mildred meant Emily's murder and the fire afterwards. He hadn't told her about what he'd coerced Lilah into doing, nor was he ever going to. But still, he needed to sit down quite suddenly as his knees suddenly felt watery.  


“Thank you, Millie.”  


“You're welcome, darling. I'd better let you go. You're seeing Penny again tonight, I suppose?”  


“You suppose rightly.”  


“Well. I'm glad you two are getting on so well. Just like you knew you would. Goodbye, and good luck, dear boy.”  


“Goodbye, Millie.” He hung up the phone and stared at it until he heard knocking coming from the bathroom mirror down the hall. Then he gathered together everything he wanted to bring with him into his laptop bag and hurried from the flat.

~*~

When Brahms left, Penny changed out of her hotel robe into her favorite crop top and mermaid scale patterned leggings. She gathered her hair into a braid and then set up her drawing supplies at her table.  


She remembered that she'd promised Emily an update and went to retrieve her phone from her purse. It wasn't like her to ignore it for a whole night and morning but she'd been more than a little busy. Smirking, she saw she had a voice mail and went to listen to it. She fully expected it to be Emily but fell still at who she heard instead.  


“Pen, hey, it's Chris. I just... I needed to talk to you but I guess you're... Look, no matter what you think of me, please call me when you get this. Okay? Please.” He hesitated a moment and then hung up.  


What the fuck was that? There was no reason for him to reach out to her, really. She'd gotten the house in the breakup, they'd each had their own cars, she'd made sure to get his name off of all of their bills. He hadn't left anything at the house. They had mutual friends but they hadn't forced anyone to take sides and so far no one had been made to feel uncomfortable, as far as Penny knew. There shouldn't be anything dramatic brewing in that quarter.  


So maybe he was calling to get back together? She thought about that a moment. The idea would have sent her over the moon a week ago. Hell, it would have thrilled her three days ago. But now? She thought of Brahms with his pretty green eyes, his soft voice, how he always found that spot on her neck with unerring accuracy, like how a compass needle points north. Did she want Chris back after all he'd put her through? Did she want him back when she had this new, promising relationship just blooming?  


No. No she didn't.  


Penny deleted the message, tossed her phone back into her purse and then settled down at her drawing table.


	12. Chapter 12

Monday morning, Penny jerked awake with a yelp when her alarm went off. She woke Brahms in the process who groaned and clutched her more tightly to him, rolling them over and away from the alarm. She started giggling and patted his shoulders.  


“Let me up, it's not going to stop until I stop it.”  


“Mmmf. But you're all warm and smell nice.”  


“And yet the alarm beeps.”  


“Let it beep.”  


“Brahms.”  


“Ergghhhh.” He pouted and let her go to scoot quickly across the bed and snag her phone off of the bedside table.  


The horrible beeping stopped and she breathed out a sigh of relief. Until she noticed she had a new text message. From Chris.  


_Pen, please talk to me._  


“Not fucking likely,” Penny muttered and set her phone aside.  


“Hmmm?” Brahms was on his back, one arm over his head, the other hand wiping sleep from his eyes. His hair stood up in all directions and god, all she wanted to do was get back under the covers with him.  


“Oh, just grumbling. I have to go to the publisher's today and meet up with Danson. This was my last chance to get the illustrations right. If these sketches get approved, I can start drawing for real. If not, I'm on the first plane home.”  


He went still and looked at her with real fear in his eyes. She felt bad for phrasing it so strongly, but it was true. The publisher was putting her up in this hotel and she sure as hell wasn't willing to blow through her inheritance to stay here much longer, as much as she wanted to spend time with Brahms. There was still a chance that Matthew Danson would turn his nose up at what she presented him; he'd started with a strong bias against her and it would take a miracle to sway that. However, she loved what she'd drawn, and Brahms was taken with the drawings as well, saying, “This isn't like your other work but the spirit of it is still there. This is still you. I like it.”  


“I've got a good feeling about my chances, though,” she said gently, to take the sting out of her earlier words. She crawled back to his side of the bed and kissed him on the chest. “Now I've got to take a shower before I go. I smell like sex.”  


He gave her a wicked grin. “You do. You smell like sex and me.”  


She laughed and gave him one last soft kiss. “I'll call you when I get out of my meeting, okay?”  


Brahms sighed. “That's my cue to shove off, eh?”  


“I'm sorry,” she said and felt a little guilty. “Would it be better if--”  


“Penny, it's fine.” He gave her a comforting smile. “We'll talk later. Good luck today, all right?”  


She smoothed a hand over his hair and laughed lightly when his curls bounced right back up. “Thanks, sweetie. See ya.”  


“I'll see you,” he said almost breathlessly. He looked at her with so much wonder in his eyes. It was like no one had ever called him “sweetie” before.  


She gave him a quizzical smile and then booked it into the bathroom to get ready for her day.

~*~

Everyone in the room watched Matthew Danson slowly turn over the next page of Penny's bundle of illustrations and held their breaths. He hadn't said anything yet, just looked over each sketch carefully with a neutral expression on his face. Penny couldn't take her eyes off of him, looking from his carefully coiffed grayish blond hair, to his silver glasses, to tanned hands, to the smooth lines of his business casual attire and back again. If he said anything even slightly negative about her work this time, she was going to sling a chair into his handsome middle-aged face.  


Matthew turned over the final page and then finally looked up at Penny. She tried not to look hopeful and instead looked back at him blandly. He cleared his throat and then said, “Ms. Beech I owe you an apology.”  


Everyone at the table darted glances at one another, eyes all telegraphing the same message: _What the fuck_.  


“I wanted to work with Damian because he and I have collaborated on many other books together. When he turned me down this time, I... I didn't respond well. In fact, I was a total shit. I may have ruined any chance of working with him again. I was so frustrated that I managed to chase away three other illustrators before you.” He saw her eyes widen with surprise and he noted, “Right, this lot wasn't about to tell you that. A sensible woman like you would have told them where to stuff their job offer if you knew what hell I'd give you. And I gave you hell, Ms. Beech. There was nothing wrong with what you gave me before. It wasn't quite what I had in mind, but it was sweet. This, though?”  


Everyone tensed.  


Danson tapped the page. “Penelope, this is _brilliant_. The humor, the attention to detail. I love how that little dipshit Milo has his shirt tag out in every drawing. I love how you drew the dog. The posters on his bedroom wall are a riot. Damian couldn't have done this any better. I'm glad I haven't chased you off with my bearish attitude. Thank you for this truly outstanding work.”  


Penny let out a breath of relief and everyone at the table smiled big smiles as if they knew this would be the outcome all along. “I'm glad you like it, Matthew. Now, uh, were there any particular colors you wanted to use? I'm sure you--”  


“No,” he waved her off. “No, I trust you. You've got the right tone, I trust you with the color. Your color choices have always been superior in all your work. Which I rudely called 'twee.' That wasn't true in the slightest. Your work calls back to a different time but these drawings you have here are like... Jules Feiffer's in The Phantom Tollbooth.”  


“I was actually inspired by Quentin Blake,” Penny confessed.  


Matthew Danson let out a rough bark of laughter. “Yes! I see it!”  


From there, they hashed out the details of how long Penny was going to take painting each page. Though Matthew said he trusted her, he was still going to have the last word before each page was finalized. Everyone was so relieved and happy to have the project going in the right direction, handshakes all around, that Penny wasn't surprised to see from her reflection in the glass office that her cheeks were flushed pink.  


In the lobby, Penny fished her phone out of her purse to text Brahms but it was already vibrating with a call. From Chris. She debated picking up and telling him officially to fuck off but someone was beside her saying her name. That really took the decision out of her hands so she sent the call to voice mail and looked up at Matthew Danson.  


“Thank you again,” he said sincerely.  


“Oh, it's... well, I was doubting myself for awhile but it was fun to try something new. I'm sure the finished book will be great.” She gave him a friendly smile.  


“I am, too.” Matthew stepped a little closer and dropped his voice. “Listen, why don't we have dinner tonight? So I can apologize for the beastly way I've behaved.”  


“Oh!” Penny felt her face get hot. “Oh, um, that's really nice of you. But I already have plans...”  


Matthew Danson sighed and laughed a little sadly. “Nice fellow?”  


“The nicest,” Penny said sincerely. “Thanks for the offer, though. If it's any consolation, I wholeheartedly accept your apology.”  


He nodded once. “Good. I'll see you another day, then. I'm looking forward to the finished results. I feel a bit like a kid at Christmas.”  


Penny laughed. “Wow, when you put it like that, I really hope I can deliver.”  


“You will.” He gave her a friendly wink. “Have a nice evening with your fellow, Penelope.”  


“Penny. I will. Bye, Matthew.”  


“Goodbye.”  


She watched him walk away and then got her phone out again to text Brahms. She asked him to meet her at a restaurant just down the street from her publishers and when he texted back that he'd be there soon, she sighed happily and headed out the door, ignoring the chirp her phone made that she had a new voice mail.

~*~

Brahms was happy they were at a simple restaurant and munched on his chips as Penny eagerly told him all about her day, hands waving as she spoke. Her whole face lit up with such joy that she'd finally won over the curmudgeonly author, practically radiating it from every pore. He'd never really known anyone like her before, not that he'd known many people. The closest he could think of was Mildred but she still had the demeanor of the restrained English woman in addition to her rather cheeky sense of humor. Penny wore her emotions out on her sleeve, raised by demonstrative young parents and a free-spirited grandmother. She drew curious looks from other tables and Brahms just rested his chin in his hand and enjoyed watching her.  


“I don't really get what made him pull the stick out of his ass but god, I'm so glad he did,” Penny concluded, sitting back in her chair with a huge sigh of relief. She then sat up again and nibbled at her fried cod. “Anyway, I've been going on and on. Sorry.”  


“Don't be,” Brahms said. “You had exciting news and you wanted to share it with me. I'm glad you wanted me to hear it first.”  


She paused and then said slowly, “I totally did think of you first.”  


He felt smug and proud until he noticed the guilt on her face. It wasn't hard to guess what she was thinking. “Do you want to call Emily?” he asked gently.  


“How do you always seem to know?” she asked, eyes so big and blue.  


“Mind reader,” he said and she snorted a laugh.  


“You know, I almost believe you. I'll call Emily later, though. Now, can you guess what I'm thinking this minute?” She met his gaze directly, suddenly looking serious.  


Brahms maintained eye contact, leaning forward on his folded arms. “Hmmm. I believe... you want to celebrate your victory with more than just fish and chips.”  


Her eyes glittered, a sexy smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You got that right.”  


“Of course I do. You want cake.”  


She clapped her hands to her mouth, eyes bulging with mirth. “Oh my god, you _dork_! Way to kill the mood! I was planning on jumping your bones when we got home!”  


_Home_. He laughed along with her but said, “I know you want cake, too.”  


Penny's laughter faded out but she continued to smile. “Yeah. Only if we make it, though.”  


“But stores sell perfectly nice cakes ready for eating.”  


“They also sell perfectly nice ingredients to _make_ cake for eating.”  


“Well, I guess that's true. You also have a perfectly nice kitchenette in your hotel room that you haven't used yet.”  


“Nope! Tonight's the night. Cake then sex. Glad we got that settled.”  


Brahms accidentally made eye contact with a man at another table who gave him an envious glare. He just grinned and ate another chip, hardly believing his good fortune.

~*~

They found a grocery store a few blocks away to buy their ingredients. Brahms picked out a trolley as Penny scrolled through her phone, searching the internet for a recipe. She'd already informed him that they wouldn't be buying a box of cake mix because it would be “cheating.”  


“And whom would we be cheating?” Brahms asked her.  


“Oh, hush. You know what I mean.”  


He laughed. “I really don't, you know.”  


She ignored this and then found a recipe she liked and directed them to the baking aisle for the dry ingredients. As they walked, the music overhead shifted from a low-voiced man singing along with his acoustic guitar to sugary sweet pop music that made Penny gasp.  


“I haven't heard this song in years!” She started laughing. “Amy Grant was my friend Artie's favorite singer. When she moved away to Tuscson, the very first mix tape she sent me had this song on it that she recorded off the radio.”  


Brahms didn't know what to say; he hadn't had friends to exchange mix tapes with and he had never listened to contemporary pop music. But he had to laugh at Penny's enthusiasm and when the lyrics started, she began to sing along, bopping her head as she plucked the ingredients they'd need from the shelves.  


_Baby, baby, I'm taken with the notion_  
_To love you with the sweetest of devotion_  
_Baby, baby, my tender love will flow from_  
_The blue sky to the deepest ocean_  
_Stop for a minute, baby I'm so glad you're mine_  


Penny sent him a teasing look and directed the next verse to him. They weren't alone in the aisle anymore and he could feel his face turning pink as the young mother pushing her little daughter along in their trolley sent them an amused look. The little girl was chewing on her fist and stared at them, drooling. He should have been embarrassed and he was, a little, but he liked that Penny was directing a romantic song his way, even if the lyrics were quite insipid.  


_Baby, baby the stars are shining for you_  
_And just like me I'm sure that they adore you_  
_Baby baby, go walking through the forest_  
_The birds above a'singin' you a chorus_  
_Stop for a minute, baby they're so glad you're mi-ine_  


She came alongside him and dropped her chin to his bicep, singing the next bit softly now that they were alone again, eyes warm and bright.  


_And ever since the day you put my heart in motion, baby I realize_  
_That there's just no gettin' over you_  


“Am I embarrassing you? I'll stop.” She rubbed a hand comfortingly over his arm. “We need milk and eggs, now.”  


“I'm not embarrassed,” he protested as she led the way to the back of the store where the dairy was located. “This is just what I get for putting your heart in motion. What on earth is that supposed to even mean, anyway?”  


Penny paused in front of the eggs and gave him a dumbfounded look. “I don't really know? I never thought about it. I guess I always thought it meant 'baby baby' made her heart beat faster.”  


“And do I?” Brahms asked, attempting cool calm like his own heart wasn't “in motion” simply asking this question.  


She opened the door to the refrigeration unit and selected a carton of eggs. After opening it and making sure that none of them were broken, she set them in the cart and gave him an arch look.  


“Of course you do. I wouldn't have sung it if it wasn't true, would I?”  


Meaning all the rest of the song was true, too. He swallowed hard then said, “Got me there.”  


With a flirty smile, Penny walked ahead to where the milk was and it suddenly struck him how much he loved her. Not the dream Penny, the Penny from another life. Not the hopes of her. The real Penny, here with him right now. The Penny who had invited him to hang out yesterday, had drawn for an hour, then threw down her pencil and said that if he didn't stop biting his lip while looking at his laptop, she was going to come over and bite it for him.  


He'd very deliberately bitten his lip. Then she'd stood up, stripped off her top and thrown it at him, marching to the bedroom. Of course he'd followed and they'd had sex on the floor where he'd playfully tackled her. She'd gotten rug burn on her bum and he'd offered to rub lotion on it which resulted in a longer, more passionate bout of lovemaking in bed  


But she'd climbed out of bed once they'd finished cuddling, wrapped herself up in a blanket, and finished her work. He had to admire how she was able to make time for both work and play, that both were equally important to her. It made her so... adult. The kind of person he hoped to be some day.  


“Um, Brahms? Hello?”  


He blinked and realized he'd zoned out. She was holding a small jug of milk and asked, “Is this kind okay? You're not one of those nerds who need skim milk, are you?”  


“Me?” He couldn't care less what kind of milk they drank. “Of course not.”  


“Good.” She set it in the cart. “Butter next then we're outta here.”  


He listened to Amy Grant and watched Penny's round, pretty ass as she walked ahead of him and didn't think grocery shopping was all that bad, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are from "Baby, Baby" by Amy Grant. I almost used this song in The Spirit of Heelshire Manor instead of Paula Abdul's Rush, Rush so now it finally gets used. And yes, she wrote it for her baby daughter and not a lover but pfffft whatever she's cozying up to a dude in her music video for the song so I'm using it for my nefarious purposes.


	13. Chapter 13

Matthew Danson packed up his briefcase and sighed. A productive week, all things considered. He'd finally gotten the work he wanted from Penelope Beech, who had really impressed him. Very talented woman. Very talented, very young, very not available woman. The day after getting gently turned down by her in the lobby, he'd had another meeting with yet another young author, a man. They were going to team up for a series of middle grade novels about a dragon and a unicorn solving mysteries. They'd banged out a rough outline of the six books, assigned chapters, then started talking illustration. He'd suggested Penny and the young author's eyes had lit up he'd and quickly agreed.  


Perhaps there was life after Damian Gandy, after all.  


As he stepped off the lift, he saw a handsome young man lounging by the receptionist desk, chatting amiably. The woman suddenly pointed at Matthew and the young man sat up straight. Not a strand of his longish brown hair was out of place, eyes sparkling with good humor as he walked right up to him.  


“Matthew Danson, right? Nice to meet you. I'm a friend of Penny Beech's. Wasn't she meeting with you today?”  


This must be the young man Penny had turned him down for. Matthew looked at him glumly. This man probably had never had a pimple in his entire life or needed orthodontia.  


“No, our meeting was yesterday,” Matthew said.  


“Ah.” The man checked his phone and hissed. “Right. It's Tuesday, isn't it, not Monday. Sorry, I don't know where my head's at. I just got into town and I'm all... I'll just meet her at the hotel. The Ritz, right?”  


“No, the Willingham Christie.”  


“Right. I get those two mixed up for some reason. At least I have the room number right.” He looked down at his phone again and then smiled up at Matthew. “Thanks for your time, Mr. Danson. You have a good day.”  


Matthew watched the young man walk away and thought maybe he should start dying the gray in his hair, after all.

~*~

The man sat in the lobby, idly looking through his phone. He'd glance up and look around the lobby every so often but without any seeming urgency. No one noticed him except for the occasional appreciative stare from men and women alike as they walked by him. But no one spoke to him and he spoke to no one.  


Then Penny Beech stepped off of the elevator and he started to stand up. He stopped when he saw the man beside Penny whose hand she clung to. She wasn't alone. He sat back down abruptly and started reevaluating his original plan. He hadn't accounted for her having company.  


He searched in his pocket for an earring and hurried to the front desk. “Oh, miss! Hello, sorry, I couldn't get that woman's attention but she dropped this earring just now. Could you make sure this gets back to her?”  


“Yes, of course. Thank you, sir.” The young woman behind the counter took the earring and put it into an envelope. The man pretended to be occupied by his phone but noted that she'd written “Ms. Beech 1604” on the front.  


The man strolled out of the hotel and down the sidewalk, clutching his phone with white knuckles.

~*~

Penny walked along with Brahms, hand in hand. She was walking with a little bounce in her step and she didn't care that it was making Brahms laugh. He wasn't really laughing _at_ her, anyway. He just really enjoyed her enthusiasm. She couldn't help feeling excited for their day trip; they were going to an independent book shop she'd read about online. Penny loved bookshops and libraries as a rule but independent ones were her favorite; they felt more personalized than a chain store. She also liked going to the bookstore with someone she'd just met, so she could get to know their taste, see what caught their eye. It was more enlightening than just having someone rattle off a list of their favorites.  


They reached the shop and Brahms held the door open for her. She led the way into the quiet room where a woman in a denim dress sat behind the desk with the biggest, fattest orange cat she'd ever seen. The woman was reading Stephen King's The Dark Half but she lifted her head when they came in and called over a friendly hello. The cat blinked sleepy eyes at them and Penny's heart melted.  


“Hello,” she cooed, coming over to the desk. “Sorry to interrupt your reading, but your cat is just _grand_.”  


“He knows it too, the cheeky blighter,” the woman said. “Say hello to the lady, Wally.”  


Wally purred and sniffed at Penny's offered hand before consenting for some strokes on the head. He closed his eyes in bliss and let out a happy little chirp that sent Penny into a fit of delighted giggles.  


“Were you two looking for anything in particular today?” the woman asked, glancing over at her book.  


“Yes, actually.” Penny took Brahms's hand again. “Do you have any Roald Dahl books?”  


“Over in the children's corner to the right side of the store. Just past the teen books.”  


“Thanks!” Penny left the woman to her reading and tugged Brahms along through the store. She glanced at him from time to time but he it didn't look as if anything was drawing his attention. He just seemed uncomfortable.  


Penny stopped in the children's section. “Here we are!” She found the D's quickly and discovered a boxed set of Roald Dahl, covered in Quentin Blake's artwork. Brahms had suggested she pick some up to keep inspiration fresh in case Matthew wanted something changed in her own illustration. It hadn't been a bad idea and the set was priced reasonably considering how many books it held.  


“Where do you want to look now?” Penny asked.  


Brahms stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “I've only read the classics. It was all my mum allowed in the house. Other than your books, I haven't read much beyond the Brontes, Dickens, and Austen.”  


“Well, what do you remember wanting to read that she wouldn't let you?” Penny asked.  


Brahms thought a moment. “Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. She said it would give me nightmares. I remember my classmates talking about them and I felt left out. They'd read them at sleepovers and I was... erm. Never invited.”  


Penny's heart hurt for the slighted little boy he'd been. She herself had been an outgoing, bossy boots little girl and she'd have marched right up to Brahms and befriended him to spite all the haters, she just knew it. Now, Penny took pity on his embarrassment and moved down the shelf where she was excited to see a box set of all three of Alvin Schwartz's Scary Stories series.  


“No one's stopping you, now,” Penny said softly. She handed the set out to Brahms and she had to smile at the way his face lit up. “Now, the illustrations in those are _amazing_. They're like nightmares and fever dreams come to life.”  


They walked around the rest of the store, discussing what he'd read and liked in the past and Penny would match him up with a book. He'd read most of the classics but hadn't read The Scarlet Pimpernel so he got that as well. He liked the mysteries of Wilkie Collins so she hooked him up with And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie.  


Brahms suddenly nodded toward an alcove farther in the back. “We should go check over there.”  


Penny looked up at the sign. “Travel books? Did you want to go somewhere?”  


“With you? Yes.”  


Intrigued, Penny followed him. She blinked in surprise when he took her handful of books and set them on a windowsill, then abruptly scooped her up and pinned her against a shelf, kissing her senseless.  


“Brahms!” she hissed. “This is really public!”  


He drew back and his eyes flashed in a way she really, really liked. “Let's see how far we get before someone finds us.”  


Her eyes widened. “Brahms--” Then his mouth found the spot on her neck and that was it. She clenched her jaw tightly to keep from moaning aloud as he continued to kiss and nip at her neck, making her so wet, it gave her shivers.  


Brahms met her eyes as he reached under her skirt, pulling her underwear aside. She heard his zip slowly come down and he continued to watch her carefully, giving her a chance to stop this. A distant part of her knew she should but oh, she was aching so bad at this point. Biting her lip, she gave him a nod and then he thrust slowly into her.  


Penny shivered and wrapped her arms tightly around him as he started to rhythmically thrust against her. She kept her eyes on the alcove opening, waiting for someone to walk in and discover them but she hadn't heard the bell over the door ring, signaling the presence of any customers. That didn't mean there weren't people already in the shop when they'd arrived, though.  


“You're so warm,” he breathed into her ear. “God, you're so warm.”  


She buried her face in his coat collar, just barely stifling a whimper. She'd never had a partner who talked so much during. Not a complaint; she really liked it. She didn't realize how much it added to the experience, hearing a man's raspy voice in her ear, telling her how attractive or good she was.  


His breath suddenly hitched and she knew he was close. She nuzzled his cheek and murmured soft love words that made him all trembly. He reached down and rubbed her clit until she came with a suppressed squeak, him following not that far behind her.  


They leaned against the shelf a little longer, sharing slow, deep kisses until he carefully withdrew from her and set her on her feet.  


“I should clean up,” Penny whispered, shakily.  


“Loo's farther back on the left,” he replied, tucking himself away.  


Penny stepped close to kiss his cheek and then hurried to the bathroom. Her panties felt sodden and uncomfortable so she took them off and put them in her purse. Her skirt was long enough that no one would be able to notice. Then she got a paper towel and started dabbing between her legs. Wow, she'd gotten really wet. It was almost as if....  


Wait.  


She touched her pussy and then raised her hand to her face to inspect it. The substance on her fingers wasn't from her. They'd forgotten a condom. Brahms had come inside of her without any protection. She waited to feel frightened or horrified but other than surprise, she didn't feel anything negative. She should probably have a talk with him about earlier sexual partners, just to be on the safe side. No, she wasn't worried. She felt... excited. They'd done something daring and unplanned and they'd gotten away with it. He'd wanted her so much, he'd just gone for it and hadn't even remembered to get a condom from his wallet. She'd never been so carried away, so wrapped up in desire that she'd done that.  


Penny finished cleaning up, noted the pink in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes with a little smirk, then went back out into the shop to meet Brahms.

~*~

Back at the hotel, Brahms tore open the cellophane on Scary Stories and started reading. Penny kissed the top of his head and left him to it. She changed into jeans and an old sweatshirt and set up her paints at the table. She knew that a lot of artists liked using a tablet for their work but she still preferred a brush and paper. She used a tablet when she was more pressed for time, but Matthew and the publishers weren't rushing her.  


She was just starting to mix her colors when there was a knock at the door. Brahms raised an eyebrow at her in question and she glanced at her phone to check the time. “I ordered lunch to be sent up at two o'clock. I think they're just early.”  


“Ah.” Brahms set his book aside and rose up off the couch in this boyish, clumsy sort of unfolding that always touched Penny's heart when she saw it for some reason. “Yeah, I'll get it. Keep working.”  


“I will,” Penny murmured and took the lid off her jar of yellow to tap onto her pallet.  


Brahms opened the door and a voice saying, “I want to talk to Penny,” made her head snap up. The yellow continued to run out of the jar and all over the pallet and table, just barely missing her sketch. Hissing out a swear, she set the jar down and cleaned the mess with a bandana and a few halfhearted swipes and then got up to join Brahms at the door.  


His back was stiff with tension and Penny lightly touched him between his shoulder blades. He immediately relaxed a fraction and sent her a sideways look, asking with his eyes what he should do. She just shook her head and faced the man who had come to harass them.  


“Chris,” Penny said. “I guess you better come in.”  


She ignored the shocked look Brahms gave her and she pulled him aside as she opened the door wider. “I'm sorry,” she whispered to Brahms. “We'll talk after I get him to leave, okay?”  


Brahms nodded as Chris stepped in. Penny shut the door and then walked into the living room where she stood with her arms folded. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute but she sure as hell wasn't going to let Chris see how distressed his appearance had made her feel. She didn't want Brahms to think she still had leftover feelings for Chris, either. Best to go for cool calm. She channeled her grandmother's lofty ways and drew in a deep breath.  


“What are you doing here?” Penny asked bluntly.  


Chris stood in front of her, staring at her like she was a glass of iced water and he was a man lost in the desert. “You cut your hair.”  


She lost her cool mask momentarily to boggle at him. “You crossed an entire continent and an ocean to tell me what kind of hairstyle I have?”  


“No.” Chris sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I only came here because you weren't answering your phone or any of my texts.”  


“I think I made it pretty clear from my silence that I didn't want to talk to you. You missed the window for that back when you ignored _my_ calls and texts.” She couldn't help sounding bitter about that. It had hurt so much in those first weeks after he'd left, curled up in bed and physically aching from the emotional turmoil of so suddenly losing her fiance. She'd never called to beg him to come back but she'd seized at small opportunities to get in touch with him, one of them being a text asking him what he wanted to do with the paper plates he'd bought three years ago and forgotten in the back of a kitchen cupboard. She wasn't terribly surprised but it still shredded her when he hadn't responded.  


Chris swallowed. “Look, I just... I needed you to know that--” He suddenly turned and said sharply to Brahms, “Can you give us a second?”  


“Don't talk to him like that,” Penny said angrily. “He has more right to be here than you do. Say what you need to say, then get the fuck out.”  


His face flushed, the one thing his face did that wasn't attractive. “Who the hell is this guy, Pen?”  


“Like you have any right to ask that,” Penny said then rolled her eyes. “If you must know, he's an old family friend. My childhood sweetheart, okay?”  


“Childhood sweetheart?” Chris repeated, looking a little sick.  


“Yes. We reconnected recently after his parents died. His aunt was besties with Grandma. Remember her stories about the crazy, snoopy reporter Mildred? That's her. Again: say what you need to say and then leave.” The lie felt true in the moment and she planted her hands on her hips, glancing over at Brahms's face. He stared at her in wonder and it made her feel braver than she really was.  


“You never told me about a childhood sweetheart,” Chris said, clearly not ready to move on.  


Penny looked him dead in the eyes and said, “You never told me you didn't want kids.”  


He flinched and looked away. “Fair enough.” He stared at his feet, his hands opening and closing as he worked to calm down. She'd seen him this way before, but had never had the anger directed at her. It was a little scary.  


“Chris, if you don't tell me what you need to say, I'm calling security to make you leave,” Penny said firmly.  


Looking up at her, he saw she was serious and nodded. “Tawny called me a few days ago. She was crying, saying that you'd removed her from Instagram because of a picture.”  


Penny waited and when he didn't elaborate further she said, “So... you're here to defend Tawny's honor?”  


“No. Fuck her. I'm here to tell you that there's nothing between me and her. There isn't anyone else. There can't be. I'm still...” He glanced over at Brahms and said bitterly, “I don't have any 'childhood sweethearts' waiting in the wings.”  


“That's so unfair of you,” Penny snapped. “You're acting like Brahms and I started fucking the second you walked out the door. I tried to get you back for months! Now when things are turning around and I kick some negativity out of my life, you come rushing back?”  


Chris made a face. “His name's _Brahms_?”  


“Will you acknowledge the things that I say to you instead of fixating on--” She threw her arms up in the air then turned to Brahms. “Okay, I'm sorry, apparently you're too big of a distraction for this idiot. Can you wait in the bedroom until he leaves, please?”  


Brahms kept a wary eye on Chris. “Are you sure that's a good idea?”  


“He's not going to hurt me,” Penny said, softly.  


“Of course he won't,” Brahms said with a low growl in his tone. “Because I'm keeping the door open and the instant I hear something--”  


Chris looked infuriated at the insinuation but Penny just quickly said, “Okay, sweetie, thank you.”  


Brahms left the room and Penny watched him, longing for just a few minutes ago when they were sitting in the same room, occupied with their own pursuits but still enjoying each other's company. There was something so peaceful about him, how he could sit so still and just _be_. He didn't feel the need to keep running his mouth or suddenly switch on the television.  


She looked back at Chris and saw his rage had fizzled out. Now he just looked sad. Maybe her longing had been a little too obvious. “Do you want a glass of water?” she asked, quietly.  


He nodded and then followed her into the kitchenette where she poured him a glass from the pitcher in the refrigerator. When she turned to hand him the drink, she saw him staring down at the cake she and Brahms had made yesterday. There was a good sized chunk out out of the corner, obliterating a portion of the iced message Penny had written there in a playful moment.  


Chris read what was there out loud in a dry tone, “Brahms Heelshire has a big...” He looked over at Penny, raising an eyebrow. “Heart?”  


Penny didn't laugh or apologize, just looked at him. “What did you think was going to happen here, Chris?”  


“I make the grand romantic gesture of flying hours to get here, tracking you down, and telling you that I haven't moved on, that I'm still in love with you. You're ecstatic. We get back together and we plan our wedding for Christmas, only invite close friends and family, then move back into our house and get working on those babies you want.” He looked down into his water glass and said flatly, “But you don't want that anymore.”  


“No.” Penny felt a lump in her throat and couldn't say more. What more was there to say? She wasn't sorry for moving on but she was sorry it was hurting him. He'd been a good boyfriend, he'd made her happy up until the second he'd broken her heart. Who's to say that if she took him up on his offer, he wouldn't change his mind again? She couldn't trust him, not anymore.  


“God, I fucked up.” Chris's voice broke and he pressed a hand to his face. “This is all my fault.”  


She couldn't argue with that and didn't try to. All she could do was look away while he lost his composure, knowing he didn't like crying in front of other people. When it sounded like he'd pulled himself together, she turned back to see him wiping his face with his sleeve.  


“I should go,” Chris said, his voice shaking a little. He cleared his throat then sounded a little steadier. “I'm actually... I'm here for a week. If you change your mind... I'm staying at the Travelodge. Just give me a call.”  


Penny had no intention of doing that but nodded all the same. Chris could tell she was humoring him and his face crumbled again.  


“I'll go now,” he said. “Goodbye, Penny.”  


“Bye, Chris.” She walked him to the door and opened it. As he passed through, he paused then turned toward her like he thought she was going to say something. When she didn't, his face fell again and then he swiftly walked away.  


Exhaling a relieved breath, Penny shut the door and then locked the deadbolt for good measure. She didn't think he'd break the door down but she hadn't thought he'd jump on an international flight and confront her after removing an acquaintance from Instagram, either.  


Brahms was slouched on the edge of the bed, hands folded between his knees. Penny went to sit next to him and said softly, “He's gone.”  


“All right,” Brahms answered.  


Penny sighed. “Brahms...”  


“Are you going back to him?” he asked.  


“No,” she said adamantly. “Absolutely not.”  


He relaxed a little and looked over at her. There was still some fear in his eyes and she reached over for him, cupping his unscarred cheek in one hand. “I'm never, ever going back to him.”  


“All right,” Brahms said again.  


Penny took her phone from her pocket and said, “I'm going to block his number right now.” She went through the steps then stopped, feeling troubled. “But um, he came looking for me when I didn't answer my phone before. He could always come back here again.” She waited. Brahms was watching her in confusion so she said awkwardly, “Maybe I could... stay with you?”  


“With me?” he said, looking dumbfounded.  


“Yeah. You have a place, right? I'll check out of here. The publishers will probably be thrilled since they're footing the bill. I think they intended to pay for this place while Matthew and I figured out our book issues and then I'm expected to either go home or find my own place to live. And... now I can stay with you.” She cleared her throat when he still hadn't spoken and said lamely, “I can pitch in for food...”  


He suddenly hugged her to him tightly and said, “No, you don't have to do that. I'd love for you to come stay with me.”  


“Really? You don't mind? Staying at a fancy hotel is pretty sweet, isn't it?” she asked, trying to make a joke out of it.  


“My flat's nice, too. I can help you move in whenever you want.”  


Penny smiled, her heart starting to pound hard again. _Move in_. “How about in the morning? That's usually when check out is, anyway. You don't mind sharing your space with me?”  


“Not at all,” Brahms said, shaking his head with boyish intensity.  


“Okay.” She looped her arms around his neck and kissed the tip of his nose. “Guess I'm moving in.” Then she squawked in surprise when he suddenly tackled her to the bed with kisses, sending her into a giggle fit.


	14. Chapter 14

_ “Happy birthday, Brahms!” the children said obediently. Every single child from his class had been invited to his party and every single one of them had come. Not because they'd wanted to, but because he was rich and there would be a good cake and fancy party favors. It was true; his mother had put together the treat bags and there were full-sized candy bars inside, packets of gum, Lipsmackers chapstick for the girls and Hot Wheels cars for the boys. Therefore, if they were ordered to wish him a happy birthday, they were going to say it, even if they didn't mean it._  


_Brahms tried to smile graciously but it must have come over weak because there were titters of derisive laughter._  


_ “Let's all play a game!” one of the mums exclaimed, clapping her hands. She got everyone's attention and began explaining how to play blindman's buff. Brahms started to inch away. He didn't want to play blindman's buff. He'd played with Ben once a few years ago and the game had ended when Ben shoved Brahms down the stairs and then went screaming for help, saying Brahms had “fallen.” Ben had been praised for raising the alarm so quickly and Brahms had been scolded for being clumsy._  


_He looked over at the table where the cake would go and wished they could skip to that bit. Anything was funner than games with this group. He hadn't wanted a party at all but his mother had insisted. It didn't make sense that he wasn't allowed to play with anyone but she still wanted the pageantry and fun of a garden full of guests for his birthday. He hadn't earned it and they all resented him for expecting them here, bright eyed and bushy tailed._  


_Movement off to his right caught his attention and he softly gasped. Ben was walking hand in hand into the woods with Emily. Nothing good happened in the woods when Ben took you there, Brahms knew. Brahms loved Emily and he didn't want the things that had happened to Brahms happening to her. With one look over his shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention to him, Brahms ran after them into the woods._  


_Stepping carefully, Brahms made sure to make no sound as he walked. If Ben realized he was being followed, he'd hide and then Brahms would never find them. His heart beat wildly as he listened hard for his cousin's voice. He could just make it out._  


_ “You'll love it!” Ben was saying cheerfully. “He thought of everything. A whole tea party for just the two of you. The big party's for his mum, really. You know how she is. No one will notice that the two of you have slipped away. I'll make sure no one comes looking for you.”  
_

_“Thank you, Ben,” Emily said. Emily had once told Brahms she thought Ben was the most handsome boy in the world. It had broken his heart and when she'd gone home, he'd shut himself in his room and screamed himself hoarse. His parents had tried to break down the door to get to him and when they'd finally succeeded, he was fast asleep in the middle of the floor, having tired himself out with the force of his rage._  


_Ben said something more but Brahms couldn't make it out. He just followed the sound, trying not to breathe loudly as he hurried along. Then everything went quiet. His heart sunk. He could hear the children at the party in the distance but nothing from up ahead._  


_Then suddenly, a shrill scream cut off abruptly by a THUD and then Ben was screaming and crying. Brahms ran full tilt through the woods, being quiet no longer a concern. He made it to a clearing and burst through the brush to find the most hideous scene ever._  


_“He loves ME he loves ME he loves ME!!!” Ben chanted as he brought a large rock down over and over onto Emily's face. It wasn't even recognizable as her face anymore. Just pulped flesh running with blood, her lovely strawberry blonde hair matted with it, her party dress soaked around her neck in a grotesque bib of gore._  


_Brahms couldn't help it; he wet himself and then couldn't move from the spot. Could barely breathe until he suddenly drew in a shaky breath against his will._  


_The sound drew Ben's attention and he paused, rock above his head and his crazed eyes met Brahms's. Tears spilled down his cheeks but he beamed at the sight of Brahms. “Look what I've done! It's over now. You can't love her anymore. You can't love dead people.”_  


_Brahms couldn't speak. He didn't move, not even when Ben set the rock down and approached him. Ben was trembling all over and suddenly grabbed Brahms to him, hugging him too tightly. He always hugged too tightly._  


_“She's gone,” Ben breathed in Brahms's ear. “You don't love her now. Say it. Say it, Brahms.” He drew back, searched Brahms's face eagerly. When he didn't see what he wanted, his face fell. The tears returned and he pressed two fingers lightly to Brahms's cheek. Then his face contorted and he spat, “What have you done? Oh god, you've killed her! You've killed her!” He went tearing through the trees, bawling and screaming for help._  


_Brahms was still standing over Emily's body when his father and mother broke through the trees and found him. His father gripped his arm and demanded, voice sounding choked, “What have you done? Brahms! What the hell have you done?!”_  


Brahms jolted awake with a sharp cry. He clutched at the sheets in a panic, wondering where the hell he was. It wasn't his room in the walls, nor his room at Millie's, but somewhere else entirely. The same fear and hurt rose up inside him and he cried out for the one person he always longed for.  


“Penny,” he sobbed, trembling all over. “Pen. Penny.”  


“I'm here.”  


He cried out in surprise and she switched on a lamp, her sleepy face wearing a look of deep concern. “Sweetheart? What's wrong?”  


Weeping and gasping, he crawled across the bed to her and dove into her arms, pressing his face into her neck. “Oh, you're real. You're real, I knew you were. Please don't leave me. Please.”  


“Oh, Brahms.” Penny's voice broke and her arms closed around him, cradling her to him as he cried. “Shhh. It's okay. You just had a nightmare.”  


Brahms cried for a long time and Penny never once relinquished her hold on him. Gradually, his sobs tapered off and he sniffled a little, his breathing still a little ragged. He looked up into Penny's eyes and said, “Something bad happened.”  


“I know,” she whispered. Her eyes were leaking tears, too. “Oh, sweetie.”  


“I'm a monster,” he said bitterly. “He was a monster but then he made me one, too.”  


“No,” she said firmly. “You aren't a--”  


“Yes, I am!” he shouted, startling her. His teeth clenched and he reached for the mask covering the burned part of his face and ripped it off. “Look! Look at me! I'm a fucking monster, Penelope! They made me one and I lived it every single day! Look at me!”  


She did look. She stared at him with her wide blue eyes and then she scooted closer to him. He flinched but when he didn't move away, Penny leaned closer, cupping his burned face in one hand, gazing deeply into his eyes.  


“I don't know what happened to you,” Penny whispered. “You don't have to tell me now. Or ever, if you don't want to. But I need you to understand something.” She traced a thumb lightly against his scars, her eyes filling with tears again. “I'm never, ever going to join in on your Brahms bashing. I'm Team Brahms. He's made me happier than I ever thought I'd be again. Okay?” She scooted closer, and let her lips trace lightly down his scarred cheek and breathed out, “You're the most beautiful man I've ever met.”  


Trembling, he cupped the back of her head. “Pen?” His voice sounded more his own, not pitched high like a frightened child's.  


“Uh huh?” she murmured, stroking his hair.  


“You make me better. You make me want to _be_ better.”  


“Better than what?”  


_A murderer._ But he didn't dare say it. Instead, he cuddled closer to her and reached for the lamp to switch it off. “We have a big day tomorrow. I'm sorry I woke you.”  


“It's okay. Do you feel better now?”  


“Much. I'm just... I'm glad you're here.”  


Penny just stroked his hair and he rested his head on her breast and fell asleep there, letting her fingers play through his curls in a soothing, gentle rhythm.

~*~

Raindrops pelted the windows outside and Brahms snuggled further under the covers. He'd always liked the sound of rain; it made him grateful to be indoors, even when he'd been living in the walls. At least his abode had been dry, even if it had been cold. Brahms blindly reached out for Penny, hoping for a little bit of cuddling before they had to get up. It was weird that she wasn't already in his arms; they often slept that way. His hand only found cool sheets and he lifted his head, frowning, squinting in the dim lighting.  


“Pen?” he called uncertainly.  


She appeared in the doorway, stuffing something into a bag. She was fully dressed and gave him a brief smile. “Hey. I woke up early so I'm packing everything up. I was actually about to wake you.”  


“Oh. Right.” He sat up and rubbed at his eyes. “Sorry. Was there anything you needed help with?”  


“I've got everything packed up for the most part, except for my clothes. I'd actually really appreciate if you could get the car ready. I've already called the front desk and they're sending up someone with a luggage cart to take everything down to the lobby.”  


“Oh,” Brahms said stupidly and stumbled out of bed. “I should, uh... yeah, I'll go do that. Um. Have you seen my...?”  


She came into the room and scooped his clothes from the day before off the floor and handed them to him. “Looking for these?”  


He laughed, embarrassed. “Right. Yeah.”  


Penny smiled and gave his shoulder a kiss. “I need to start packing up in here. I didn't want to make any noise and wake you up.”  


Brahms felt a tug in his heart as he started getting dressed. “I wouldn't have minded.”  


“Well, you looked so peaceful and after...” She looked troubled and then quickly tried to cover it up, smiling and pulling her suitcases out of the closet. “You needed your rest.”  


“Thank you,” Brahms said, watching her worriedly.  


“Do you have a tub at your flat?” Penny asked, her tone falsely cheerful.  


He paused in the middle of fastening his belt and had to think about it. “Yeah. It looked complicated so I haven't used it yet. It's, uh, actually Mildred's flat.”  


“Well, maybe I can figure it out. Nothing gets between me and a nice soak. Well. Except for there not being a tub at all.”  


He didn't understand what was happening. Something felt off. She wasn't upset with him; if she was, she wouldn't be packing and certainly not planning on moving in with him. Something was upsetting her, though. There was something brittle in her smile and the smile itself didn't quite reach her eyes.  


“Pen,” he said softly and she paused in the middle of folding a dress. “What's--”  


Someone knocked at the door and Penny finished folding her dress and tucked it into the opened suitcase. “That's the bellhop,” she said and rushed from the room.  


Brahms quickly found his mask from the bedside table and put it on. He slipped on his boots and then entered the room, watching as a short, red-haired man quickly and efficiently loaded the luggage cart. Brahms looked over at Penny who was worrying her hands together but when she saw him she gave him a little smile.  


“I'll uh, go get the car,” he said to the man. “Can you meet me on the sidewalk?”  


“Of course, sir,” the bellhop said.  


Brahms left the room, feeling worry begin to eat at him.

~*~

It was still raining by the afternoon. They'd gotten everything unpacked pretty quickly, Penny exclaiming happily over the size of the tub and had worked out the controls very quickly. The tub was even bigger than the one at the hotel and had what Penny called “jets” which Brahms had always understood to be airplanes so he just smiled and nodded to hide his ignorance.  


Once they were settled in, Penny changed into painting clothes, braided her hair back, and then got to work. He'd set her up at a writing table of Mildred's that was right near the window for the best light. Brahms sat nearby with his Scary Story books and kept looking at Penny's back as she worked. He wondered if he should say anything about last night but didn't know what he could possibly say. She was quite obviously upset about it and he didn't know how to fix the problem. In fact, he didn't even know if his nightmare had even been a problem. She could be upset about Chris's sudden appearance. He felt self centered that the idea had only just now occurred to him so he set his book aside.  


“Pen?” he said softly.  


“Hmmm?” she sounded normal, though a little distracted.  


“Is everything... are you all right?”  


“Mmm hmm.” She continued to paint. Maybe now wasn't the best time for this discussion anyway; she was working. But he'd already left this for so long and it needed to be addressed.  


“You just seem a little... off.”  


Penny paused and then continued to work. “I'm just tired, I think. I'll take a nap once I finish this page.”  


“I'm sorry I woke you,” Brahms said, sounding bitter.  


That got her attention and she turned to look at him, eyes wide. “I wasn't...! Brahms, I know you don't have control over--”  


“Do you? Then why have you been so distant and weird with me all morning?” Brahms demanded. “Got up and got everything ready, making sure I felt like a layabout once I got around to getting my lazy bones out of bed!”  


Penny stared at him in disbelief. “That isn't what I--”  


“Right.” Brahms threw down his book and stormed from the room.  


“Hey!” Penny called so sharply he actually stopped in his tracks. She set her paintbrush down hard on the table and she got up and strode over to him. “I'm trying to talk to you, Brahms! You don't get to level accusations at me and then flounce off!”  


He turned to face her and his stomach sank. Her face was flushed, eyes sparking with anger. He'd wanted her attention but not like this. Why couldn't he start the day all over?  


“First of all, mister,” Penny said, hands on her hips, “I'm _not_ mad at you for having a nightmare. Why the hell would I be? It wasn't your fault. It was clearly something awful though since you were almost inconsolable. It scared me. I didn't know how to help you, if I even _could_ help you.” Tears started to well in her eyes and he opened his mouth, taking a step toward her but she held up a hand. “Secondly, I wasn't trying to make you feel lazy! I couldn't sleep after you'd woken up, I was so worried and anxious about you, so I used my nervous energy to be productive.”  


He opened his mouth to speak again but she railroaded over him. “I'm not done! Thirdly, I don't appreciate having words put in my mouth. I was going to talk to you about your nightmare after I was done working for the day. I was planning on googling night terrors and see how I could help you, if there was any advice to maybe make them less vivid or terrifying for you. And here you are standing there acting like I'm Queen Bitch because I'm uncertain and scared for you and I... and I...” She trailed off, her tears finally taking over.  


Brahms stepped closer to her and she didn't put him off this time so he gathered her into his arms. “Shhh. Pen, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”  


“You're a jerk,” she sobbed into his shoulder.  


He kissed her temple. “I know.”  


“And an idiot.”  


“I am.”  


“And...”  


“And?”  


She sniffled. “And you're my favorite person in London.”  


Laughing softly, Brahms drew back and wiped at her tears with the back of his hand. She was smiling at him, even as her eyes still spilled over. Crying made her eyes even bluer, though it made her nose run quite a bit. She sniffled and then raised her hand to her nose when she saw him notice her snot driplets.  


“Maybe you should take your nap, now,” Brahms said. “When you wake up, you'll feel better. We've gotten our first fight out of the way, you'll have gotten rest, and while you're sleeping, I'll look up how to deal with nightmares myself. It's my responsibility, not yours.”  


“I know, I just want to take care of you,” Penny whispered.  


His heart started pounding uncontrollably and he wanted to crush her to him and tell her how much he loved her. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “You do,” he murmured. “You take wonderful care of me. Let me take care of you now, all right? Come on.” He took her hand and led her down the hall to the master bedroom. He pulled the covers back and gestured her into bed. Once she was tucked in, he kissed her again, this time a soft, tender kiss on the lips.  


“Mmm.” Penny wove her arms around his neck and asked, “Stay with me?”  


“You need some _sleep_,” he emphasized, raising an eyebrow.  


She laughed. “Yeah, I know. I kind of want you here, though.”  


“I'll go get my laptop. But if you don't fall asleep in ten minutes, I'm going back into the other room. I think we both know I'm a big distraction.”  


“That's not the only big thing about you,” Penny said, starting to giggle.  


Brahms rolled his eyes but laughed, too. “Right. I'll be back. Remember what I said, though.”  


“I remember.”  


When Brahms returned with his laptop, he settled on the bed next to Penny and opened up Google. She was asleep in five minutes, on her side facing him with a soft smile on her face.


	15. Chapter 15

“Mmph. Hey.” Penny stretched and sat up a little groggily. Taking naps in the middle of the day threw her off. She was happy that Brahms had stayed next to her, though. There was something comforting about him. Something almost familiar.  


He looked up from his screen and smiled at her. “Hey. Feeling better?”  


“Mmm hmm.” She rested her cheek on his shoulder, looking at his laptop screen.  


“I was just reading up on nightmares,” he murmured. “There's a whole checklist of things I can do before bed to prevent them happening. I think what triggered mine last night was the stress of your ex suddenly showing up. I should be fine tonight, though.”  


Penny was quiet a moment, warring with herself. She wanted to tell him the full truth of what had been upsetting her all day but didn't want to stress him into another nightmare. Unfortunately, Brahms was very intuitive and already he was watching her with those searching eyes of his.  


“I have to tell you something,” she said softly and instantly regretted it when she felt him tense. She lifted her head off of his shoulder. “It's about Chris.”  


“What is it?” he asked, dread heavy in those three simple words.  


“I was worried about how he found me,” Penny said. “Emily never would have told him which hotel I was staying at. He could only know who my publishers are. Someone there must have told him where I was staying.”  


Brahms frowned. “That's... not good.”  


“No. I'm going to have to bring this to their attention because this could have been really dangerous if he'd had different intentions. Then I was wondering how he found out what room we were in. At least... until the woman who works the front desk gave me this.” She got out of bed and went to the hall closet to take an envelope from her coat. She came back and handed it to Brahms, who stared down at it for a moment. Her name and room number were printed on the front. “She said I'd dropped my earring in the lobby and someone found it for me.”  


Brahms opened the envelope and carefully took out a simple diamond stud into his palm. “You don't have any earrings that look like this.”  


Penny felt a momentary surge of affection for him even knowing that, for noticing such a small thing. “No. Chris has an earring like that, though.”  


“He has _pierced ears_?” Brahms said in shocked disbelief.  


Laughing in surprise, Penny tilted her head. “No, just one ear. I know men do that over here, too. Why's that such a shock to you?”  


“Well, I've never heard of it,” he said, sounding peevish. He put the earring back in the envelope then handed it to her. “You should leave it at the front desk of _his_ hotel.”  


She smirked. “Not a bad idea.” Her smile faded. “But I won't. I don't want anyone telling him what direction I walked in when I left and for him to go all Sherlock Holmes again tracking me down.”  


Brahms nodded. “True enough.”  


“Anyway.” She shivered a little but wanted to change the subject. “I'm going to take a bath. Those jets are practically calling my name.”  


“Mmm.” Brahms stared off into the middle distance.  


“Wanna join me?” Penny asked.  


It took a few moments for him to respond. With a jolt, he blinked at her and then smiled ruefully. “Ah, not this time. I should um... I need to call my aunt.”  


“I can wait.” Penny shrugged.  


“I don't know how long I'll be on the phone,” Brahms said.  


“Oh.” Suddenly the tub didn't seem as exciting. Half the fun was getting Brahms naked and teasing him until he growled and carried her all wet to the bed. “Well... okay.” She went to the dresser and pulled out some lounge clothes and clean underwear to change into. “Do you think maybe--?”  


But he'd already slid off the bed and walked into the other room. Sighing in frustration, Penny went off to the bathroom and wondered how much she was going to regret giving up her hotel for this cohabitation arrangement.

~*~

“Millie, have you heard anything about Ben lately?” Brahms asked, clutching his phone tightly to his ear.  


“No,” Mildred said, not even rebuking him for not greeting her properly. “He's in Bristol right now visiting some friends. Some dangerous friends who've spent time in prison. I'll let you know as soon as he's on the move again. Why? Is something wrong?”  


“No. Well. Yes.” Brahms leaned against the kitchen counter. “Penny's ex found us at her hotel. He shouldn't have been able to find us and I was wondering if he had any links to Ben. It seems too, I don't know, coincidental, for someone else to be looking for us, too.”  


“What's his name?” Millie asked.  


He consulted Chris's Facebook page which he'd found while doing some Internet snooping. “Christopher Everly. Born twelfth of April, 1982. It may be nothing but...”  


“You don't want to take anything for granted.”  


“Exactly.”  


“I'll look into it.” Mildred paused then asked, “Is Penny with you right now?”  


Brahms cleared his throat, suddenly feeling awkward. “Er, yes. She didn't feel safe staying at the hotel. Not when someone could get to her so easily. The breach in privacy really rattled her.”  


“Have you told her about Ben?” Mildred asked.  


“No,” Brahms said quickly. “No, she doesn't know anything about him. Or anything about me. I don't want her to know.”  


“Darling, you'll have to tell her someday,” Mildred said gently. “I'm not saying right this minute of course. But you're going to have to explain why you've never finished school and what your family was like and--”  


Brahms groaned. “Fine, yes, but not now. Things are going so well.” At least they had been until Chris's sudden appearance, Brahms thought grimly.  


“All right. Did you need anything else?” Mildred's tone got even more serious. “I've installed a new security system in the house. I have a panic button in case... well. In case.”  


“Are you asking if I want a panic button?” Brahms asked.  


“It would make me feel better if you had one,” Mildred said.  


Brahms considered it. “Well. No, I don't think so. I don't want to frighten Penny.”  


“If you change your mind, the offer still stands, love.”  


“All right. Thank you, Millie.”  


“You're welcome, darling.”  


“I'd better go. I put Penny off in order to call you and she may be cross with me.”  


Mildred laughed knowingly. “Ah, yes. No woman wants to be turned down for an elderly aunt.”  


“I wouldn't call you elderly,” Brahms said. “Maybe... experienced.”  


She laughed harder. “You ridiculous boy. Go see your lady friend. Let me do the worrying tonight, all right? I'm good at it.”  


“If you say so. Don't worry too much, though. Goodnight, Millie.”  


“Goodnight, Brahms darling.”  


He set his phone down on the counter and then went to the bedroom, taking out a flannel shirt and a pair of sweatpants and then going into the bathroom. He stood in the doorway a moment, watching Penny soak. She had her arms folded on the edge, cheek resting on her right arm as she gazed out the window looking a little sad.  


“Hello, love.”  


She squeaked in alarm and spun in the water to stare at him. “Oh! God, you scared me. That was a lot quicker than I was expecting.”  


“Is there enough time for me to join you after all?”  


Penny smiled at him, looking relieved. “Of course.” She watched in interest as he stripped, not even flinching when he took his mask off. His own parents had had difficulty looking into his face, part of the reason why he'd started wearing the mask to begin with. Her eyes were riveted on his chest, as it usually was. Her attention there didn't make him feel as if she was purposely avoiding looking into his face.  


“What are you looking at?” he asked as he got into the water.  


“Your chest hair,” she said. “You have a lot of it. I'm not used to seeing it so high up on the chest, to the collar bones.”  


Self consciously, he ducked down a little in the water. “Is that bad?”  


She looked up into his face and smiled to reassure him. “No. You're just completely different from everything I've ever known before. It's a good thing.”  


“Come here,” he said roughly. When she glided through the water to him, he gathered her close and pressed his face into her neck. “You're nothing at all like what I'm used to. You're kind and fun and... and I like myself when I'm with you. I get to see who I can be, reflected in who you are.”  


“Brahms,” she said softly, hugging him close.  


“Can we just stay like this?” he begged. “For awhile?”  


“We can stay like this as long as you want,” Penny replied.  


They stayed twined around each other until the water cooled. Then Penny drained it, ran some more hot, then played a teasing game of keep away that ended with Brahms spinning her around and fucking her from behind, snarling in her ear that she was his.  


She came so hard she cried.  


Then he carried her to bed and they did it all again.

~*~

They settled into a nice pattern over the following week. Penny would paint throughout the day, pausing for meals and breaks to rest her hands. Brahms would read or play about on the internet, mostly just filling the time until Penny was available. He'd look up recipes and then go to the shops himself to buy ingredients for cooking experimental meals. Penny ate everything he made, even if it wasn't particularly good. Though as the week went on, his cooking got better and Penny's assurances that she liked what he'd made were sounding more natural.  


In the evenings, Penny stopped work at 6:30 for dinner and then the rest of the night was all for Brahms. She didn't care much for watching television but she'd still curl up with him on the sofa and watch what he picked out. One night Brahms stumbled across a marathon of Hammer Horror films and they watched Countess Dracula.  


Out of the blue, Penny started to giggle.  


“What?” Brahms asked. The characters were at a funeral; nothing close to funny was happening on screen.  


“I'm sorry, but that guy looks like you,” Penny said. She pointed at one of the actors.  


Brahms made a face. “He has a ridiculous mustache.”  


“Okay, try to picture him without the mustache. He's got this whole boyish thing going on just like you do.”  


He squinted at the screen. “I don't see it, Pen.”  


“Ugh. Of course you don't.” She rested her head against his shoulder and didn't make any more comments through the rest of the film. It wasn't the best that Hammer ever made but it was a satisfying movie, one Brahms remembered sneak watching as a boy. He'd never forget Ingrid Pitt nude, bathing in blood.  


At the end, he heaved a satisfied sigh and looked down at Penny. She'd fallen asleep against his shoulder, the blanket she was wrapped in having slipped down around her elbows. Lately, she'd started wearing his shirts to bed and the too big collar had slipped to one side, exposing one shoulder. Smiling, Brahms leaned over and kissed her there.  


“Mmm,” she murmured.  


“Pen,” he said softly. “Do you want to go bed?”  


She stirred but didn't fully wake. “Uh huh.”  


Brahms got up, making her whimper in protest but then he gathered her up into his arms and started to carry her into the bedroom. “Penny,” he whispered in her ear. “Do you love me?”  


Her arms slipped around his neck and she nuzzled him, mumbling something. He laughed softly. It had been worth a try. It still felt too soon to speak the words but he'd nearly blurted out how much he loved her quite a few times now. Not every time was at the moment of orgasm, either. He'd almost said it that morning when she was mixing her colors and she'd made the exact shade of his eyes, something she called “Brahms Green.”  


Carefully, he settled her under the covers and she immediately sighed and rolled away, facing the other direction. He watched her sleep for a moment, admiring the spread of her golden brown hair over the pillow. She made a soft little sound in her sleep but didn't stir again. Just watching her filled him with love and a sense of protectiveness. if he wanted to keep her safe and make sure she was able to sleep peacefully every night, he was going to have to bite the bullet and do what he'd been dreading.  


Brahms gritted his teeth and went into the bathroom. He switched on the light and said into the mirror, “Brahms.”  


His reflection shifted from his face to that of the other Brahms. **What is it?** he asked, his face tense. **Is it Penny?**  


“Do you know where Ben is?” Brahms asked.  


Mirror Brahms shook his head. **I know as much as you do.**  


“He can't hurt her,” Brahms said, adamantly. “I won't let him. If he even so much as looks at her...”  


**You should have thought of that before bringing her into your life,** Mirror Brahms said sourly.  


“Oh, fuck you,” Brahms snapped, surprising his mirror twin. “As if you'd be able to part with your own precious Penny.”  


**We're married and have kids,** Mirror Brahms said defensively. **You've barely just met yours!**  


“Look, I didn't call you here to argue with you,” Brahms said, willing himself not to put his fist through the glass. “I wanted to know if you could find Ben. You were able to spy on him back at the house. Suddenly you can't do that anymore?”  


**I could only do that because you were nearby. I mirror YOU, you idiot. Not Ben.**  


“So you can sense if he's close?” Brahms said, pouncing on that.  


Mirror Brahms blinked then said, **Yeah, I think I can. Want me to search the building for you?**  


Brahms exhaled a breath of relief. “If you don't mind.”  


**Of course not.** In a blink, he was gone again.  


Not sure how long this was going to take, Brahms leaned against the sink, arms folded. He considered going to get one of his books but didn't want to run the risk of making noise and waking Penny. She'd want to know why he wasn't in bed and he couldn't very well tell her that he was consulting with himself from an alternate universe through the bathroom mirror to make sure his psychotic cousin didn't come murder them in their sleep.  


That's a lot to ask anyone to unpack.  


After close to a quarter of an hour, Mirror Brahms returned. **No, not in the building. Do you want me to run a check every night?**  


“Isn't that a lot of work?” Brahms asked.  


Mirror Brahms shrugged. **Sure, but as long as it keeps Penny safe, I don't mind doing it.**  


“You don't get to fall in love with this one, too,” Brahms warned.  


His mirror twin snorted. **You're an idiot, Brahms.** Then he was gone again.  


“Prick,” Brahms muttered and went back to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The actor Penny thinks resembles Brahms is Sandor Eles. He kind of superficially looks like James Russell. Countess Dracula is available on Amazon Prime if you want to watch it for yourself. :P


	16. Chapter 16

Penny eagerly bounced on the bed, waking Brahms up with a snort of alarm and jolting upwards. “Guess what?” she exclaimed. She was so excited, she could hardly hold it all in.  


Brahms turned and squinted at the clock on the bedside table, saw that it was after 10:00, therefore reasonable for her to have woken him, then frowned at her, sleepily. “What?”  


“I'm halfway through the book officially as of today! This is the fastest I've ever worked and it's because you're the best, most inspiring boyfriend ever!” She waited for him to smile or get excited with her but he only stared at her.  


“I'm your boyfriend?” he asked.  


She felt herself wilt. Shit. They'd never really had any discussion, never talked about exclusivity or what would happen once she'd finished her work and needed to go home again. Now she'd put her foot in it.  


“Um.” She picked at the blanket. “Well, I guess not. I only meant that you're inspirational. I'm doing really well and I think it's because of your influence.”  


“Pen?” He scooted closer to her, ducking his head to look into her eyes when she wouldn't look at him. “Love, I'm more than happy to be your boyfriend. I haven't said anything because I thought it might be too soon for you to want to put a label on anything.”  


She felt herself starting to smile and then wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “It's way too soon but I really don't give a shit. You make me happy. We have fun together. I'm not interested in seeing who else is out there. We can figure out the details later. For now, I just... I want to be happy.”  


“You make me happy, too.” Brahms smoothed a hand over her hair in that almost worshipful way of his that nearly brought tears to her eyes. “I can hardly believe you're in my room with me right now.”  


That reminded her of a song and she laughed then sang, “I love it in your room at night, you're the only one who gets through to me...”  


“Is this more Amy Grant?”  


She threw her head back and laughed. “Hoo boy, nope! Way too sexy for Amy Grant. No, this is The Bangles. Here, let me...” She grabbed her phone and called up her Spotify app. When she found the song on her 80s playlist, she boosted the volume a couple of levels and then jumped up to dance around the room. Brahms sat up and rested his arms on his raised knees, a pleased little half smile on his face.  


_I love it in your room at night, you're the only one who gets through to me_  
_In the warm glow of the candle light oh, I know what you're gonna do to me_  
_In your room_  
_Come alive when I'm with you_  
_I'll do anything you want me to _  
_In your room_  


For the next verse, she started to teasingly unbutton the long, gray shirt of his she'd started wearing to sleep. His eyes perked up with interest and she shimmied a little and then crawled onto the bed, making her way up to him.  


_I love it in your room all day, when you're gone I like to try on all your clothes_  
_You won't regret it if you let me stay_  
_I'll teach you everything that a boy should know _  
_In your room_  
_I'm alive when I'm with you_  
_Gonna make your dreams come true_  
_In your room_  


By his side now, she kissed him teasingly, just lips and the tip of her tongue. When he leaned into her, she got into his lap, careful not to straddle him.  


_Feel good, in your room_  
_Let's lock the world out_  
_Feels so good, when we kiss_  
_Nobody ever made me_  
_Crazy like this_  


Then he ripped the shirt all the way open, buttons flying everywhere, and that was the end of Penny's singing for awhile.

~*~

After lots of cuddling and kissing and almost getting out of bed, they finally rose close to noon and dressed. Penny bemoaned her sleep shirt's lack of buttons but Brahms didn't really see that as a problem. Easier access as far as he was concerned. But he still helped her search the room for the buttons and she said she'd sew them back on later that evening.  


“If I even have the energy,” she said with a shrug. She set the buttons they'd found on top of the dresser and then dashed into the other room to set up at her desk. Her work was long and hard but she loved doing it. Brahms noticed if she was away from her paints for too long, she got twitchy. She must have been climbing the walls for that month she was too depressed and uninspired to pick up a brush, right after that nitwit Chris let her go.  


“You always find time for everything,” Brahms said. He'd followed her out and opened the closet to put on his boots and jacket. “Your time management skills are astonishing.”  


“Oh, I'm always going to find time to jump you, no worries there,” Penny said, settling down to work.  


Brahms laughed, lacing up his boots. “What do you want for brunch, love? Beans on toast?”  


“Ew.”  


“So no kidney pie, either.”  


“Brahms, I have limits, you know.”  


“Eggs and bacon? Some fruit?”  


“Yes, please.”  


He kissed the top of her head and she said, “You know, if we made one big shopping trip, you wouldn't have to go out like this every single day.”  


“I like the spontaneity of not knowing what I'm going to cook until I decide to cook it,” Brahms said with a shrug.  


“And I like having you here.”  


He hugged her from behind, pressing his nose behind her ear. Apparently his nose was cold because she squealed and pulled away. Taking pity on her, he released her and noticed a long flat valise laying against the desk. “What's this?”  


“Oh, Matthew's sending a courier to pick up the finished paintings so neither of us has to go anywhere. He's started working on some unicorn mystery series or whatever so he's busy. As am I. It works out this way and the publisher pays for the courier service so...”  


“I see. Well, I'll be back in an hour. I'll miss you.”  


“I'll miss you, too.”  


Brahms gave her one last kiss on the cheek, zipped up his jacket, and went out the door humming “In Your Room.”

~*~

Penny was getting to her absolute favorite drawing of the whole story. Milo the little liar has told the class reject that he can't go to the kid's house after school because his little sister's been injured in a fall. Then Milo realizes that the lie is about to come true and gets a horrified look of realization on his face. To get the face just right, she'd arranged a mirror at her desk to make horrified faces for reference. The one in her preliminary sketches was okay but she really wanted to wow everyone with the final colorized page. She licked her lips and got to work, only raising her head when there was a knock at the door.  


Usually the courier called or buzzed first but maybe someone had let him in? Still pondering her drawing, wondering if she should double the size of Milo's bugged out eyes, she scooped up her valise of paintings and trotted to the door.  


She threw it open. “Hi, how are--”  


For a second all she registered was the man standing there looked a lot like Brahms, if he was a smarmy looking ferret, at least. The man grinned widely and drew his fist back. She only had time to gasp and then the hit connected, knocking her out.

~*

Whistling, Brahms tossed a packet of bacon in the cart. As he did so, he noticed a big sign over the meat counter where a bored-looking young woman was mixing a meatloaf in a large bowl. The store was having a sale on ground beef and he wondered what he could make with it. Penny had been saying something about tacos the other day, something he'd never had before.  


He got his phone out of his pocket to call her. When he saw his screen, his blood froze. Fifteen missed calls from Mildred. Three texts. One voice mail. With shaking hands, he accessed his voice mail and held the phone to his ear.  


“Brahms,” Mildred said breathlessly. “He was here. Ben. He and his, I don't know what she is, associate tried to break into the house. Luckily I had my panic button. Brahms, I don't know where the detective is, I don't know if Ben's killed him or paid him off but he wasn't able to warn me in time. When you get this, call me. You need to run. The flat's in my name, he'll work out where you are and come find you. Please, please darling, just get out of London. Call me.”  


Brahms left his trolley and started jogging to the exit, dialing Penny's phone. It rang and rang until the voice mail picked up. Swearing viciously when he heard her cheery sounding message, he hung up and dialed Mildred.  


She answered on the first ring. “Brahms! I've been--”  


“I can't get hold of Penny,” he said all in a rush.  


“I'm sorry? Slow down, darling, I can't under--”  


“Penny!” he said desperately, rushing through the door, ignoring the employee who was asking him if he was all right. “I can't reach Penny. I'm at the shops and I left her alone, I hadn't looked at my phone yet today except for right now. Millie if he touches her, if he so much as looks at her...!”  


“Calm down,” Mildred said. “Are you on your way home now?”  


“Yes!” He was running down the sidewalk, dodging around people who jumped out of his way and gave him incredulous stares.  


“Okay, good. We'll figure out what to do next after you get there.”  


He lowered his arm with the phone in it and sprinted the remaining blocks to the flat. He had his key out and ready to unlock the door and then nearly collided with a young woman chatting on her own cell phone when she exited the lift.  


“Wanker!” she snapped as he got on and hit the button for his floor.  


The lift took simply ages but finally the doors opened and he rushed to his flat His heart seized in his chest when he saw the door hanging open.  


“Pen!” he called out. “Penny!”  


“Brahms don't go in!” Mildred's voice said over the line.  


Mirror Brahms was in the mirror hanging over the hall table. **She isn't here. He must have taken her away.**  


“Millie what do I do?” Brahms wailed, raising a hand to his hair to tightly clench. “She isn't here! He's taken her!”  


“Brahms, love, I know you don't want to hear this but you need to calm down,” Millie said soothingly. “You can't help Penny if you're in a panic. All right? Deep breaths, darling.”  


He tried but all he could think of was the ruin Emily's face had been when he'd found her and Ben in the forest. In his mind, he saw Penny laying there instead, her golden brown hair stained red, her university t-shirt soaked with blood and pulped flesh. He started gagging and leaned against a wall.  


“Oh god, oh god Millie, he's going to kill her. He's going to kill her.”  


“No, he isn't!” Mildred snapped, startling him. “Stop that talk right now! My friend Morgana would not have raised a weak woman. Penny will be able to defend herself as long as she can until we get her out of that situation. You need to call the police.”  


“I don't have proof that he's taken her! I don't even know _where_ he's taken her! By the time they're done interviewing me and thinking I'm a nut case, Ben will have murdered her, just like he killed Emily!”  


**Brahms!**  


He looked up at Mirror Brahms who was now pressing his hands to the glass, a look of determination on his face. Mildred was saying something in his ear but he lowered the phone and stared at his twin.  


**Come here. I can help.**  


Brahms set the phone down and heard a tinny _Brahms? Brahms are you there?_ as he stepped up to the mirror. He stared at the glass where his twin was pressing and then Brahms did the same, arranging his hands over his twin's. He felt the cool, cold mirror and then that faded and he felt warm flesh. Startled, Brahms looked up into his twin's eyes and took a step back. Mirror Brahms kept his grip and then to Brahms's disbelieving stare, came head first out of the mirror, struggling through the narrow frame. His knees slammed into the hall table and the whole thing collapsed, spilling water and Penny's dying flowers all over the carpet.  


“What was that?!” Mildred shrieked.  


Mirror Brahms straightened and stared down at Brahms for a moment. Then he swiftly stepped around Brahms, sprawled on his back on the floor like a fool, and picked up the phone.  


“Millie, it's Brahms,” he said in a strong, confident tone. Mildred said something, probably expressing her confusion, and he went on, “I know where Ben's taken her. It's to the house, of course. He wants me to find them. What I need you to do is get the police there. I'm on my way right now. Meet us with the police. Okay? Can you do that?”  


Mildred must have because he said, “Thank you, Millie. See you soon.” He disconnected the call and then turned to Brahms. He bent at the knee and took Brahms's hand, helping him up.  


“You're out of the mirror,” Brahms said, dumbfounded.  


“Yeah, neat trick, eh?” Mirror Brahms handed Brahms his phone. “Come on then. They've got a head start on us but not too much. He's not going to kill her before you get there, I don't think.”  


Brahms swallowed hard. “You just came out of the mirror. Like... like a...”  


Mirror Brahms rolled his eyes and grabbed Brahms's elbow. “Right, looks like I'm driving. Maybe by the time we get there, you'll be less of a gibbering idiot.” He dragged a still shell shocked Brahms through the door and slammed it behind them.

~*~

When Penny blinked her eyes open, she was strapped into the back of a speeding car. She barely had time to focus when she felt a sharp prick in her arm and she went back to sleep again. She wasn't sure how long she slept; she had no dreams and felt as if she were suspended in space. Everything seemed to speed past her while she was mostly unaware of everything. She could hear someone speaking in the distance but couldn't make out any of the words.  


Finally, Penny woke again as someone carried her roughly up a flight of stairs. She moaned as her head was jostled and the person holding her chuckled.  


“Well, hello, Penny. Glad you could join us.”  


“Where...?”  


“This should be exciting for you. You're in the Heelshire mansion where your dear boyfriend grew up. I'm sure he told you all about his childhood here, didn't he?” The man carrying her sighed as if in disappointment. “He probably left out a lot of things. I'll tell you all about them, though. I'm good for that, reminding Brahms. He's so forgetful.”  


Penny's mouth tasted like a nasty old gym sock. She made a face and then lifted her head, trying to look around her. She was struggling to get her eyes to focus but couldn't quite manage it. The man dropped her onto a sofa and she squeaked in alarm.  


The man knelt in front of her with a kindly smile on his face. She could focus enough to see that. The smile didn't reach his dead eyes which made her insides shrink.  


“Now, Penny, I'm only going to tell you this once. You're going to sit quietly on this sofa and not move. If you get up for any reason, I'll hurt you. If you say anything I don't like, I'll hurt you. If you try to hurt me, I'll hurt you. Do you have any questions?”  


“Who are you?” Penny asked.  


The man's smile widened. “That's a very sensible question, Penny. My name is Ben Cooper and I'm Brahms's cousin. We were very good friends as children but when we grew, Brahms lost his way. I'm here to help him and you're here to help me help him. Does that make sense?”  


“No.” Penny shook her head.  


Benjamin laughed. “It's clear that Cousin Brahms only cares about pretty faces, hmm?”  


Penny glared at him. “I'm not stupid. Your story just doesn't make any fucking sense.”  


He laughed again and then suddenly reached out and grabbed her t-shirt with one hand, slipping a switchblade knife out of his pocket. Penny gasped when he brought the knife to the shirt and sliced it open, exposing her bare breasts.  


“Brahms obviously enjoys these,” he said, looking at her love bites clinically. Penny felt her face get hot but before she could try to pull the tattered remains of her shirt closed, Ben was reaching over to grip her nipple with his fingers. He made deep, meaningful eye contact with her and then gave her nipple a vicious twist.  


Penny let out a high pitched shriek, back arching at the pain. The twist seemed to go on for ages but Ben eventually let her go. She fell back against the sofa, sobbing.  


Ben shook his head sadly. “I just told you the rules and you broke one right away. We can't have that, Penny.” He cupped her breast in his hand. “Your poor little nipple. Need me to kiss it better?”  


Without even thinking about it, Penny gagged. His eyes lit up and he whispered, “Would that be worse than pinching you, Penny? Sucking on your tits like Brahms does? Would you hate it so much you'd want to die?”  


Penny closed her eyes shut tightly, trying not to weep. She didn't want to give this sicko the satisfaction. But then she felt his breath on the flesh of her nipple and she went still.  


“Open your eyes, Penny.”  


She didn't want to but reluctantly did so, not wanting him to take this any farther. He was poised at her breast and when she made eye contact with him he smirked and said, “I'm not going to do anything this time, but I might not be so lenient a second time. Are we clear?”  


Tears spilled down Penny's cheeks as she stared at him hatefully. But she nodded.  


“Good!” He stood up and Penny noticed his erection right away. He saw her noticing and winked at her. “Between you and me, I hope you mouth off again, Penny.”  


Movement in the doorway caught Penny's attention and she looked over to see a haunted looking woman with limp, black hair straggling over her shoulders. She stared at Penny and then in a husky voice said, “Lunch is ready.”  


“Bring it in for her,” Ben said, losing interest and turning away. “I'm going to keep watch for my cousin. If she gives you any trouble, come get me. I'll set her right again.”  


The woman didn't so much as glance at him as he passed her on his way out. She held up a finger to Penny, indicating she'd be a moment, and ducked away. Penny considered making a run for it but she didn't know where she was, she wasn't wearing shoes, and her shirt was completely ripped open. She'd freeze before she got to help, if there was any help to find.  


The dark haired woman returned with a plate of sandwiches and set them on the table in front of Penny. “Ham and swiss.”  


“Thank you.” She wanted to hate this woman, tell her where she could stick her sandwiches, but from her large, dark eyes, Penny could tell that the woman wasn't an entirely willing participant in this venture. Maybe she could turn this woman to her advantage if she was polite. Penny picked up a sandwich with shaking hands but didn't take a bite. She wasn't quite hungry yet. “What's your name?”  


“Lilah.”  


“Lilah, why are you doing this to me?” Penny's voice broke. “I don't understand what's happening.”  


The woman called Lilah looked away from Penny's distress. “Every time I think I have him figured out, he shows me something else new and awful about him. I've been with him for five years now and I can't answer your question for you. He has his reasons for everything but they've never been anything I could understand.”  


“I just want to go home,” Penny whispered.  


“I'm not sure that's going to happen,” Lilah replied, sadly.  


Penny lowered the sandwich back to the plate and dissolved into tears, curling up into herself. Lilah bowed her head and let her, not silencing her but not comforting her either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from "In Your Room" by The Bangles


	17. Chapter 17

They drove in silence, Mirror Brahms going well over the speed limit. He drove with a confidence Brahms himself would never have, looking steely-eyed and capable, like a man in an action film. Only this wasn't a film, it was real life.  


“Does Penny know you're here?” Brahms asked.  


It was the first time he'd spoken in hours. It surprised a quick glance from Mirror Brahms and then he looked back at the road. “No, she's got no idea where I am.”  


“Isn't she going to be worried?”  


“Probably.”  


“And that doesn't upset you? Worrying your wife?”  


Mirror Brahms sighed. “Yes, it upsets me. I hate worrying Penny. I also hate when she's hurt or in danger. My Penny's fine but yours needs help. That's why I'm here.”  


“All right.” Brahms swallowed with difficulty, eyes burning with tears. “I hate the idea of her anywhere near him. He killed Emily. Did anything happen to Emily where you're from?”  


“No.” Mirror Brahms shrugged. “I don't know. She wasn't killed at my birthday party. She moved away and we wrote to each other for a few years but lost touch. Anything could have happened between then and now.”  


Brahms nodded. “All right.” He stared out the window, watching trees whip past. It started to make him feel a little ill so he looked out at the horizon, trying to imagine that Penny was fine, that Ben wasn't hurting her. “What are we going to do once we reach the house?”  


“I go in the front and distract them. You go in the back and get Penny.”  


“We don't even know where he's holding her,” Brahms argued.  


“Look, it's a house. It's a finite space. I'll go in and bluster about wanting to get Penny back and while he and I are arguing, you'll search the other rooms for Penny. As soon as you find her, you take her to the car and get her out of there. I'll hear the car and come out and join you. Mildred and the police will be right behind us, they'll arrest Ben and Lilah, and that'll be that.”  


It sounded way too simple the way he described it. So much could go wrong. What if they heard Brahms moving around while he searched for Penny? What if Ben killed Mirror Brahms? What if Penny was dead already? What if Mirror Brahms crashed them on the road and they didn't make it to the house at all?  


“Stop worrying,” Mirror Brahms said in a gentler tone. “I know it feels impossible but we'll get through this. We're getting Penny back and we're taking Ben down, too. Okay?”  


Brahms sighed softly. His mirror twin was right. He was going to have to start thinking more positively if they were going to get through this. He would sneak into the house through the basement window and get into one of his crawl spaces to search for Penny. If anyone heard him, they wouldn't be able to get to him right away. He and Mirror Brahms had the upper hand over Ben; they knew that house better than he did.  


The two Brahmses exchanged a look and then settled in for the ride. Not much farther now.

~*~

While they waited, Ben listened to the same song on a loop. It was starting to drive Penny crazy; it reminded her of in high school when she'd spent the night at a classmate's house and the girl's little sister had played “Complicated” by Avril Lavigne on repeat. She didn't think she could bribe Ben with pizza and letting him watch Nightmare on Elm Street to make him stop, though.  


_We started dancing and love put us into a groove_  
_As soon as we started to move_  
_The music played while our bodies displayed through the dance_  
_Then love picked us out for romance_  
_I thought that it was clear the plan was we would share_  
_This feeling just between ourselves_  
_But when the music changed, the plan was rearranged_  
_He went to dance with someone else_  
_We started dancing and love put us into a groove_  
_But now he's with somebody new_  
_What does love want me to do?_  


Trying to take her mind off of her irritation and throbbing nipple, Penny looked over at Lilah. She was probably closer to forty than thirty, but who knew; the misery swimming in her eyes made her seem much older. Lilah sat perched on the edge of a chair, hands clamped between her knees, staring at the plate of sandwiches she'd made. Penny had eaten half of one but had been too anxious to eat more.  


“You said you've known him for five years,” Penny said. “Do you love him?”  


Lilah took a moment to think that over and then slowly shook her head. “I did once. In the beginning. He was different then. Or... no. He was the same, he was just better at hiding what he really is. No one can hide who they really are. At least they can't for very long.”  


_Love said:_  
_Let the music play, he won't get away_  
_Just keep the groove and then he'll come back to you again_  
_Let the music play, he won't get away_  
_This groove he can't ignore, he won't leave you anymore_  


“Why do you stay with him?” Penny asked.  


Lilah looked up into her eyes and there was a spark of life there. “He said if I ever left him, he wouldn't come after me but he'd murder my little sister. She's ten years younger and nothing like me. She has so much going for her: clever, beautiful, fun. I'm not letting him anywhere near her. So I stay.”  


Penny swallowed hard. “I'm sorry.”  


“I've made my bed,” Lilah said. She looked back down at the sandwiches and visibly deflated. “I hate that you and Brahms got sucked into this. Especially when he's finally found you.”  


“Finally found me?” Penny repeated. “What do you mean?”  


Lilah glanced up at the ceiling as if she could see through it and ascertain that Ben was still upstairs and not sneaking up on them, eavesdropping. “Well, maybe not exactly you. Brahms told me about a woman he's been dreaming of his whole life. Her name was Penny, too. Kind of a weird coincidence.”  


“Yeah, weird,” Penny said slowly. Brahms never seemed surprised by anything she told him. One night in bed, she'd told him all about how her parents had died in a car crash and he hadn't responded like anyone else she'd ever told. Usually they'd gasp or stare at her in wordless horror. Brahms hadn't done that but he hadn't been unmoved, either. He'd pulled her into his arms and cuddled her against his fuzzy chest, kissing the top of her head and not saying anything. He'd known exactly how she'd wanted him to respond. He always knew. Somehow.  


_He tried pretending a dance was just a dance but I see_  
_He's dancing his way back to me_  


The music abruptly cut off and Penny was surprised at the dread she suddenly felt. She thought not hearing the music would be a relief but it wasn't. Ben's footsteps thundered down the stairs and he ran into the room, eyes alight with a manic gleam.  


“He's here,” he said, his voice trembling with excitement. “Places, everyone!”

~*~

Brahms laid his head against the window and willed himself not to sigh again. They were mere miles from the house and soon they'd be facing Ben. He thought of his cousin and ground his teeth. His earliest memories of Ben were all colored with pain. Their mothers would get together for tea and a nice chat and the boys would be expected to go play somewhere. Ben would grip Brahms's little hand tightly and lead him well out of earshot of the adults.  


“Tell me you like me best,” Ben would demand.  


“I like you best,” Brahms said as if he were reciting a lesson.  


Ben's face would contort with rage. “Don't just repeat after me! Say it like you mean it!”  


Brahms could never phrase it just right and Ben would drag him to the deepest recesses of the house or out into the woods and tie Brahms up. He'd find some lamp cord or old rope, then cut a switch or grab an old radio antenna and beat Brahms's buttocks with it, demanding that he “say it right” until Brahms was weeping and begging for him to stop. He could never understand what it was his cousin wanted from him. As an adult, Brahms still had no idea. It had felt like he was being unfairly persecuted and now Penny was the target of that terrifying, incomprehensible rage. He'd give anything to trade places with her if it meant she'd be safe.  


Suddenly sitting up right, Brahms said, “Pull over.”  


“We're nearly there,” Mirror Brahms protested.  


“Pull over!” Brahms insisted. Something in his tone must have communicated his desperation because Mirror Brahms pulled the car over and then looked at Brahms expectantly.  


“Do you have to throw up?” Mirror Brahms asked.  


Brahms didn't even dignify that with a response. “Change of plans. You go in back to save Penny and I'll face Ben.”  


Mirror Brahms was shaking his head barely two words in. “No. Absolutely not.”  


“Why?” Brahms demanded.  


“Because you two have too much history. I don't even know this asshole. I can go in and I'm not going to get upset and tripped up like you will. Let me take care of Ben and you save Penny. That's all either of us cares about, right? Saving Penny?”  


Brahms took a deep breath and willed himself not to get angry. Mirror Brahms wasn't going to take him seriously if he “got upset” so he was going to have to make his arguments in a calm fashion. “That's exactly why I have to face Ben myself. We have a history. He terrorized me for eight years and then the memory of him kept me inside that house forever after that. There weren't any locks or bars keeping me in, you know. I could have left at any time. But if I had, there would be the possibility of Ben finding me. I'm not hiding anymore. If I don't face him now, I'm going to regret it the rest of my life. Let me do this.”  


Mirror Brahms searched his eyes for a long moment and then slowly nodded. “Okay. We do it your way. The second you're in trouble, though, I'm stepping in. Penny's a tough woman and can hold her own. I'll make sure she's able to escape and then help you. Seriously, Brahms. You aren't alone anymore.”  


“Okay.” That's all he could trust himself to say for a second. When his tumultuous emotions had settled down he said, “Let's switch right now. I drive. He'll be watching us approach so you're going to need to get out in the woods and circle the grounds.”  


They stepped out of the car and Brahms got into the driver side and Mirror Brahms settled in the passenger's seat. As they drove the rest of the way, Brahms described the window Mirror Brahms would need to crawl into and the path he'd have to take through the house, where his secret doors were hidden. Mirror Brahms listened intently, nodding and occasionally asking for clarification. When they reached the treeline, Brahms came to a stop and let Mirror Brahms out.  


“Wait.” Brahms took off his mask and handed it to his mirror twin. “You're going to need this if you get spotted. It would be bad if they knew there were two of us.”  


Mirror Brahms took the mask and put it on, smirking. “How do I look?”  


“Not as handsome as me,” Brahms snarked, making his double laugh. “I'll meet you back at the car.”  


“See you, then,” Mirror Brahms replied and took off through the trees.

~*~

Brahms pulled up in front of the house and drew in a shaky breath. He wasn't regretting switching places with his double but he was definitely not looking forward to this. There was no sense in getting into the house stealthily since Ben had no doubt been standing at the big window upstairs, watching out for him. So he stepped out of the car and climbed the stairs up to the front door. He turned the knob and it was unlocked.  


When the door opened, he saw that someone was waiting for him. Lilah. She was dressed in a long, white nightgown, her black hair falling in lank, stringy clumps over her shoulders. She nervously shifted a mobile from one hand to the other. Her eyes flashed with guilt when she saw him.  


“Hi,” she said.  


Brahms winced at the sound of her voice. Her lovely fairy tale voice was gone. He'd strangled it out of her, leaving her with this husky, raspy voice that didn't suit her. He felt sorry suddenly and his shoulders dropped. Then he realized Ben was expecting him to feel guilty and let his guard down, that's why he'd placed Lilah right here.  


“Where is he?” Brahms asked.  


“You have to answer three questions,” Lilah replied, eyes flickering away from his and staring intently at his forehead.  


“This isn't a fucking quiz show,” Brahms snapped. “I'm not answering anything.”  


“You have to answer three questions,” Lilah repeated flatly, holding up the phone . “He's listening. For every correct answer, you get to move one room closer to Penny. For every wrong answer, he gets to hurt her. If the police arrive and they enter the house, Penny dies. Game over.”  


“This isn't a game!” Brahms cried out, heart pounding.  


“Are you ready for the questions?” Lilah asked as if he hadn't said anything.  


“What kind of--” Brahms gave up when he realized that Lilah wasn't going to deviate from her script. “Fine. Ask.”  


“Question one. Who do you like best?”  


Brahms's stomach dropped. Oh god.  


“You have thirty seconds to answer,” Lilah said. “Starting now.”

~*~

Penny lay curled on the bed in Brahms's childhood room. It was weird that such a thing could exist; everything seemed so babyish. Hadn't he wanted to update the room as he got older? Maybe his parents had wanted to preserve his babyhood and he'd gotten to move to a larger room as he entered adolescence? She couldn't imagine a teenager in this room and the house was certainly large enough for him to have had a room for every stage of development if he'd wanted it.  


Ben lay next to her, his phone on the pillow. They could hear Lilah and Brahms talking and Ben's breathing was fast with excitement, his hand rubbing insistently up and down Penny's thigh. She wanted to slap his hand off but was mindful of his earlier threats.  


“You have thirty seconds to answer,” Lilah's voice said. “Starting now.”  


Penny squeezed her eyes shut. She had no idea what the answer was supposed to be. How the fuck would Ben even know the right answer? They clearly were _not_ close cousins who shared everything. She didn't buy for a second Ben's story of them being bosom chums when they were children.  


“Ben,” Brahms said, his voice breaking. “Ben's the best.”  


She felt her stomach lurch and pressed her hands to her mouth, willing herself not to vomit. Ben laughed softly and moved his hand from her thigh to her front where he lightly rubbed circles over her belly.  


“Shhh, Penny. He just answered correctly.”  


“Correct,” Lilah said, sounding relieved. “Follow me.”  


They heard footsteps and Ben lifted off of the bed and opened a dresser drawer, pulling out some coils of rope. He came back to the bed and indicated that Penny raise her arms. She did so reluctantly and Ben started tying her arms to the headboard. When she resisted him trying to tie her legs, he reached into her leggings and cupped her through her panties, raising an eyebrow. She got the message and went still and he continued tying her.  


“We are now one room closer to Penny,” Lilah said. She made Ben frown; clearly she wasn't giving the performance he wanted of her. “Question two: Who do you love?”  


“Ben,” Brahms answered quickly. “I love Ben.”  


Lilah sighed. “Correct.”  


Ben was smiling brightly as he picked out a necktie from the dresser and tied it around Penny's mouth. “He's doing really well, Penny. Too bad if he gets this last question right, he still doesn't win. See you later, love.”  


He slipped from the room and shut the door, ignoring Penny's frantic, muffled cries.

~*~

“We are now one room closer,” Lilah said. She was visibly sweating but her voice stayed level and flat. “Here is the final question.”  


Brahms licked his lips and nodded that he was ready.  


Lilah swallowed hard and then said quietly, “Who needs to die?”  


Oh. Oh fuck. His mind raced. The last two answers had been “Ben,” but that wouldn't do this time. Ben wasn't the type for suicide. Maybe it was Brahms. But... no. Ben had had every chance to kill Brahms and hadn't done it. He'd at least want Brahms to suffer first. And Brahms would suffer the most if...  


“Penny,” Brahms whispered. “Penny needs to die.”  


Lilah's eyes were hollow as she said, “That's correct.”  


Did that mean Penny was going to die right now? Had he just signed her death warrant by answering this fucked up question? But Lilah was turning and waving him on to the next room. They walked along and she pushed a door open, leading the way into the game room. Brahms took two steps in and was knocked to the ground.  


Stunned, he looked up and saw Ben standing behind the door, clutching the attic door hook. He dropped it and crawled to Brahms eagerly, pinning him to the carpet.  


“Lilah!” Ben snapped. She popped up at his side with twine and Ben got busy tying Brahms's hands behind his back. “All right. Upsy daisy, cousin. We're on our way to see your lady lovely, just like I promised.”  


Brahms struggled to his feet and winced as Ben gripped the back of his jacket, catching some neck hairs as well as fabric in his tight fist. He lead them to the stairs and got him marching.

~*~

She fought the ropes, twisting her hands fruitlessly but he'd tied the knots too well. All she was doing was giving herself rope burn. Sobbing angrily, she tried to scream around her gag, hoping if she made enough noise, Ben would be forced to come back and silence her, leaving Brahms alone.  


There was a sudden clatter from somewhere in the room and she abruptly stopped moving, listening intently. Then someone suddenly stood up at the foot of the bed and Penny cried out in surprise and joy. Brahms!  


“Shhh.” Brahms rushed to her bedside and removed the gag. “Are you hurt?”  


“No,” Penny said in a voice that shook. “Oh god, Brahms, your cousin's a psycho.”  


Brahms snorted. “Yes, I've noticed.” He started untying her and once she was loose, he tenderly rubbed at her wrists where the marks were. “I'm sorry he hurt you.”  


Penny launched herself into his arms, hugging him as tightly as her sore nipple would allow. “Oh god, sweetie, I can't believe-- How'd you get away from Lilah?”  


“Don't worry about that,” he said. “We need to get you out of here.”  


“Fine by me,” she replied. She leaned in to kiss him but he turned his face away suddenly, gripping her hand and pulling her off of the bed. She frowned, hurt, but figured they didn't really have time for a make out session, anyway. She could hear footsteps on the stairs and figured if Brahms had escaped the game, Ben would come check on her immediately.  


They crawled through a hole in the wall and Brahms carefully put the metal grate back in place, the thing she'd heard clattering to the ground when he'd gotten in. Then they stood up and started fumbling their way through the walls, Brahms whispering to her to watch her step and to hurry.

~*~

“Annnd here she--” Ben's face fell when they entered the room and saw the rumpled bed, the ropes on the floor. “What the fuck?!”  


Brahms chuckled. “Well played, cousin. For a moment I thought Penny was in real danger.”  


Ben stared at him, uncomprehending. “I tied her myself.”  


“Maybe you didn't tie her well enough.” Brahms shrugged. “You're not as wonderful as you think you are, Ben.”  


With a roar, Ben punched him hard in the face, rocking Brahms backwards into his dresser. Then he grabbed Brahms by the collar and tugged him from the room, screaming, “Penny! Penny you come back here or your boyfriend dies! I mean it, bitch!”

~*~

Brahms threw open the driver's side door and shoved her down into the car's seat. “Get out of here. The police are on the way; meet them and lead them here. Okay?”  


Penny frowned up at him. Now that they were in the light of day, he didn't really look right. His hair wasn't as wild and he didn't have that guarded look in his eyes. He moved with an easy confidence, like he'd never second guessed himself in his life.  


“Where are you going?” Penny demanded. “Come with me.”  


“No, I need to go back in,” Brahms said. “Promise me you'll get to safety, Pen.”  


Narrowing her eyes, Penny lunged at him, grabbing the mask off of his face. He swore explosively but when she had the mask in her hand, she gaped at his perfect, burn-free face.  


“Who are you?” she demanded. “Where's Brahms?”  


“He's in the house,” this Brahms pretender snapped. “And he's gonna die if I don't go in and save him. Get your ass out of her, Pen, I mean it.”  


“Who are you?” she demanded again, voice louder.  


“I'm Brahms!” he snapped. “I'm Brahms from another reality who came here to save you and help him. Okay? Now can you get out of here?”  


“A Brahms from--?” Penny could only stare at him. She'd been thinking Brahms had a twin or something but this was unbelievable. Yet he looked exactly like Brahms, smelled just like him, looked at her the same way...  


He knelt next to the car door, his face serious. “I'm sorry, darling, there's too much to get into right now. I'm not your Brahms and you're not my Penny but I still feel duty bound to protect you. It's what your Brahms wants, too.”  


She sucked in a breath and then shook her head. “No. I can't leave him. Let me help you. Please?”  


He closed his eyes and dropped his head forward. “Of course you'd say that. I knew it. It's why I wanted him to save you and me to face Ben. It would have been so much easier if he'd gone with the original plan.”  


“I wouldn't have left you behind, either,” Penny said quietly. He raised his head and met her eyes, the same beautiful green eyes of the man she'd fallen in love with. The depth of her feelings suddenly hit her and she reached out for this Brahms, cupping his bristly chin in her hand. “We're saving him together. Your Penny wouldn't leave him behind either, would she?”  


The new Brahms chuckled. “No, she wouldn't.”  


She scooted out of the car and looked up at him. “Then let's go.”  


He still hesitated and then unzipped his hoodie and handed it to her. “Fine. Put this on. Follow me and keep quiet.”  


She mimed zipping her lips and happily covered her bare chest with his jacket before allowing him to tug her around the house to the back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from "Let the Music Play" by Shannon. Probably a weird choice but I've always found that it sort of sounded sinister.
> 
> Sorry for the long wait; I've started playing Stardew Valley and that's sort of eaten up what little free time I have. I'm definitely going to finish this story, though. I've got one more chapter completed and the rest of them outlined so we're getting close to wrapping this up.


	18. Chapter 18

“Penny!” Ben screamed, his neck cords popping. “I mean it! You get back here!”  


“I'm fairly certain she's long gone,” Brahms said conversationally.  


Ben gave him a vicious shake. “Shut the _fuck_ up, Brahms!”  


Seeing his cousin so rattled should have been upsetting and it was. It just wasn't as bad as Brahms had been dreading. It felt good seeing him thwarted, watching him not get his way for a change. All his manipulations had blown up in his face; Penny was free. He didn't care what happened to him now, so long as she was alright. It was weird that he hadn't heard the car by now but maybe Ben's vitriolic shrieking had drowned it out.  


Growling, Ben shoved Brahms in Lilah's direction. “Watch him! I'm finding the little cunt and slitting her fucking throat when I find her.” He stormed angrily into the kitchen and then came out with a butcher's knife. For a moment, he stopped to stare at Brahms, eyes wild, and then he dashed from the room, throwing open the front door to check outside.  


“Untie me,” Brahms said to Lilah.  


She couldn't quite meet his eyes. “I can't.”  


“The police will be here any minute. Untie me and I'll tell them you didn't play any part in this.”  


Lilah glanced to the window. “Are they really coming?”  


“Of course,” Brahms said. “We came ahead to make sure Penny was all right. She's safe now and I have to go join them. Come with us?”  


“Who's 'us'?” Lilah asked, brow furrowing.  


“Penny and me. And a friend of ours. Please, Lilah.”  


She swallowed and looked down at her feet. “I'm sorry. I can't.”  


He hadn't wanted to play this card but she was leaving him no choice. He quietly said, “You owe me, Lilah. Untie me.”  


Her face went brick red, eyes welling with tears and he hated himself for saying such a shitty thing to her. He was about to apologize but she reached out with a trembling hand and spun him around. She took a sharp pair of scissors from a desk drawer and swiftly cut his bonds.  


Brahms shook the feeling back into his hands. “Thank you,” he murmured. He took the scissors from her and put them in his back pocket.“We should move fast, he could be back any min--”  


“Pssst!” A panel in the wall opened and Mirror Brahms leaned out, gesturing him over. “Come on, let's go!”  


Smiling, Brahms grabbed Lilah's arm, ignoring her shocked gasp at the appearance of a second Brahms, and they rushed over to the wall. “Brilliant!” Brahms enthused. “He's gone outside so once he comes back in, we should make our run for it. We'll join Penny--” He stopped talking once he was completely inside the wall and saw Penny standing there, barefoot and dressed in leggings and Mirror Brahms's hooded sweatshirt. Her eyes were the size of saucers and she had a dark, ugly bruise on her face.  


“Brahms?” she whispered uncertainly.  


Brahms didn't trust himself to speak. On one hand, he was furious with her for not escaping when she had the opportunity. Deep down, he wasn't surprised that she'd come back. It wasn't her personality type to run and leave others in the lurch. She always wanted to help. Instead of rebuking her for going against their plan, he dropped Lilah's arm and tugged Penny over to him, embracing her tightly.  


She let out a soft cry of discomfort and he quickly loosened his hold. “Sorry, love.”  


“No, you're fine. I just... um.” Penny rubbed her left breast and smiled ruefully.  


He watched the movement, shoulders going stiff. “What did he do?”  


Her eyes took on a wounded, hurt look that broke his heart.“I'll tell you later. We have to go.”  


“Whatever he did, I'm going to kill him,” Brahms swore.  


“I know,” Penny said softly. She took his hand in hers and lifted it to her lips to kiss.  


Mirror Brahms cleared his throat. “Let's start moving. How long's he been outside?”  


“I don't know, five minutes?” Brahms exchanged a look with Lilah who did a little shrug and nod to indicate that she wasn't sure but that his estimate sounded right.  


“Who knows how much of the grounds he's actually going to search,” Mirror Brahms said, leading the way through the cramped, dark wall space. “Probably just to the front gate and back. He might even sabotage the car so if we get to it, we won't be able to use it. Hopefully by the time we get out and it's an issue, the police will be here.”  


A figure suddenly lurched in front of them and they all jumped back, crying out in alarm.  


“You left your secret door open!” Ben crowed triumphantly. “Sloppy work, Brahms!”  


And he brought the knife down into Mirror Brahms's shoulder.  


“No!” Penny screamed. She grabbed Mirror Brahms around the middle and pulled him away from Ben before he could get the knife back. She gripped the handle to pull it out.  


Lilah stopped her, grabbing her wrist. “No, leave it in! If he pulls it out, there'll be nothing holding the wound closed and he'll bleed out.”  


“But we need a weapon!' Penny argued.  


Ben stood there, hyperventilating as he watched Mirror Brahms grit his teeth and lean against the wall, struggling with the pain. “I did it,” Ben gasped out. “I'm going to kill you now, Brahms. I thought I did all those years ago but you survived the fire. How? How did you survive the fire, Brahms?”  


“You need to shut the fuck up,” Mirror Brahms said, grinding his head into the wall.  


Ben laughed, his face lighting up. “Yes! I do! So let me just finish you off...” He came forward to grab the knife and the two women screamed and started pushing him away, doing their best to fight him off.  


All the while, Brahms hung back. Ben hadn't noticed him yet. He thought Mirror Brahms was the real Brahms; he was wearing the mask so it wasn't immediately apparent that he lacked any scarring. Brahms reached into his back pocket and pulled out the sharp scissors.  


“Out of the way!” Brahms shouted and rushed forward.  


Lilah and Penny fell against the wall, still blocking Mirror Brahms from Ben's attack. Ben hadn't seemed to hear Brahms's shout, so intent on getting the knife out of Mirror Brahms and finishing the job. So he was taken by surprise when Brahms came at him and shoved the scissors deep into Ben's gut.  


Ben let out a deep gasp and stumbled back a few steps. He blinked at Brahms then looked over at Mirror Brahms before falling to his knees.  


“I don't understand,” Ben said faintly. “How are there two of you?”  


He sounded so sad that Brahms almost felt bad for him. He dropped to his knees in front of Ben, keeping a careful eye on the scissors. So far Ben hadn't made a move to pull them out. If he did, Brahms wanted to be close by to slap them out of his hand before he could use them in some last ditch effort at retaliation.  


“I'll tell you if you answer something for me,” Brahms said. He waited for Ben's confused nod before continuing, “Why do you hate me so much? Our whole lives, you've gone out of your way to bully and hurt me. What did I ever do?”  


Ben smiled. “It's what you didn't do.” His smile fell. “Everyone loved me. I was able to win over anyone. My parents, the neighbors, everyone at school. You were the only one who didn't. No matter... no matter what I did. It made me... so angry.” He blinked woozily and slumped forward. “Oh, I feel like shit.”  


“Well, fair's fair,” Brahms said quietly. “The other me is from another universe. He came through the mirror to help me save Penny.”  


Ben slumped a little more and mumbled, “Fine, don't tell me.” Then he fell quiet.  


Cautiously, Brahms reached out and shook his shoulder. “Ben?”  


“Let me check his pulse.” Lilah stepped forward, kneeling at Ben's side.  


Suddenly, there was a disgusting squelching sound and Ben reared up, holding the bloody scissors in his hands. Everyone screamed and Brahms grabbed his wrist before he could stab Lilah. They struggled, blood getting all over the both of them until Ben weakened and Brahms was able to get the scissors away from him.  


Ben lay on his back and chuckled. “I'm dying.” When no one said anything, he continued, “Don't everyone start comforting me all at once.”  


Penny stood by Brahms's side and held his hand. Lilah stood on his other side and they watched Ben quietly until he finally stopped breathing. He died exactly how he would have wanted : with an audience. The satisfied smile on his face was proof enough.

~*~

As they helped Mirror Brahms back into the house, sirens sounded in the distance.  


“Fucking finally,” Penny muttered.  


“They can't see me,” Mirror Brahms said. “There'll be too many questions. I need to leave.”  


Brahms frowned at him. “Can you even get back?”  


“I think so.” He shambled awkwardly to a large mirror hanging on the wall and knocked on it. “Pen! Penny!” He glanced over his shoulder at everyone and smiled wanly. “Hope you don't mind that I'm not giving any heartfelt goodbyes. I'm just... trying not to pass out right now.”  


Penny and Lilah exchanged a confused look and then a distant voice called, “Sweetie? Where are you?” The voice wasn't immediately identifiable but seemed familiar. When Penny saw Lilah was staring at her in shock, Penny realized: it was her own voice.  


They watched in the mirror as Penny walked in through the doorway. Her hair hung down her back but other than that, she looked the same as the Penny standing in the Heelshire house. Mirror Penny stopped in her tracks and gaped.  


“What the fuck?” she said, summing up the situation for everyone in the room.  


Mirror Brahms laughed softly. “Darling, I don't have much time. Come here. Put your hand on the mirror, okay?”  


“How did...? Where are you?” She approached the mirror, baffled. She didn't seem to see Penny, Lilah or Brahms standing just behind Mirror Brahms. Her voice rose. “What's that in your shoulder?!”  


Gritting his teeth, Mirror Brahms pressed his hand to the mirror. “It's a knife. Pen, please, get me out of here. I need to get to a hospital.”  


Eyes filling with tears, Mirror Penny touched the mirror where Mirror Brahms's hand rested. “How can I even help you right now?” She'd barely got the words out when suddenly their fingers linked together through the glass. With a shocked gasp, she gave a tug and Mirror Brahms climbed through the mirror, collapsing to the ground on the other side.  


“What the shit!” Penny exclaimed, taking a step back.  


With Mirror Brahms having crossed over, the vision in the glass wasn't the Heelshire house anymore. It was a comfortable living room that reminded Penny of her grandmother's house, a place she'd had shut up years ago after her grandmother's death. The picture faded to the actual reflection of themselves and the room behind them as someone knocked hard on the front door.  


“Better go let them in,” Brahms said. He looked at the two women and added, “We should leave out my mirror twin from the story.”  


“Right,” Lilah and Penny mumbled and followed Brahms to the door.

~*~

The police had lots of questions and separated everyone from one another to ask them. As Brahms gave his statement, he noticed the questioning officers glancing at his burned face and then intently avoiding staring. Belatedly, he realized that Mirror Brahms had left with his mask.  


The sun had set by the time the police were finished and Ben's body had been retrieved from the walls and carried away. They must have been satisfied that everyone gave identical answers but not too identical, as if they'd agreed on a story beforehand.  


Brahms, Penny, Lilah, and Mildred stood in front of the house, watching the various police cars drive away. It had taken Mildred close to half an hour to convince the police of an emergency; what had finally clinched it was an officer nearby getting annoyed and deciding to humor the old lady and looked up Benjamin Cooper for himself. What he'd found had set the officer and his partner hurrying to Mildred, calling for backup and emergency services, too.  


“Where will you go, love?” Mildred asked Lilah gently.  


Lilah had changed out of the nightgown into normal clothes. Her eyes didn't look quite as haunted as they had before. She sucked in a breath and thought the question over before answering. “I'm going to my sister's. I haven't seen her in five years. I think... I think we've got a lot of catching up to do.”  


“Quite.” Mildred nodded and gave her hand a comforting squeeze.  


Looking uncomfortable, Lilah squeezed back and then started walking to Ben's car. Brahms murmured that he'd be right back and jogged over to her. Lilah heard him approach and turned, her eyes immediately looking guarded again.  


“Look,” Brahms said. “I just... I wanted to apologize. For before. What I said, it was...”  


“It wasn't any less than I deserved,” Lilah said flatly.  


Brahms shook his head. “No, you were just as much his victim as I was. I shouldn't have--”  


“Don't.” Lilah sighed. “For what it's worth, I'm sorry, too. I really hope that you and Penny are happy together. She seems every bit as lovely as you dreamed.”  


He didn't know what to say so he just slid his hands into his pockets and watched her get into her car and drive away. When the car was out of sight, he walked back to where Penny and Mildred were standing. Penny was shivering in Mirror Brahms's hoodie and Mildred had an arm around her, rubbing a hand comfortingly on her back. They'd found a pair of flats in his mother's closet that looked virtually unused and Penny was wearing those now. They probably didn't do much for the cold, but they were better than nothing.  


“Well,” Brahms said. “Are we going back to London?”  


Mildred shook her head. “You two have been through far too much for another long drive. I've booked us rooms in the B&B in town using false names so we'll have some privacy. We're the Robinsons; you're my son and Penny's your wife.”  


Penny gave him a tired smile and Brahms just sighed. “Great. Let's go.” He saw Penny's smile drop but he just turned and trudged to Mildred's car, ready for this horrible day to finally be over.


	19. Chapter 19

The bed and breakfast was about an hour away from the Heelshire mansion and the landlady let them in with a glad smile that froze when she saw the blood splattered on Brahms's clothing. Mildred stepped in and quietly asked for food to be brought up to their rooms, offering to pay extra for the inconvenience, then she got their room keys and sent Penny and Brahms upstairs.  


“I'm going into town to see if any shops are open,” Mildred told them. “You two could use a change of clothes. I'll be quick as I can.”  


“Thank you,” Penny said when it was obvious Brahms wasn't going to answer.  


Mildred gave her a little half smile and then hurried away. When she was out of view, Penny gently took Brahms's elbow.  


“Let's go upstairs,” she said softly.  


He removed his elbow from her grasp without a word and they climbed the creaking stairs to the third floor. Their room was decorated in a dated, floral design that Penny instantly hated. The curtains were white and ruffled as were the bed clothes. It looked like what someone's grandmother in 1993 would have chosen for her bedroom.  


Brahms dropped down onto the edge of the bed and stared off at the wall. He'd been quiet since the police interrogations had finished. It worried Penny. She hadn't felt much like talking either, feeling sick anytime she thought about Ben's mouth near her breast, his hand inside of her leggings. But she didn't have time to fall apart; Brahms had been living a nightmare for years and he'd been living it all alone.  


“Brahms?” She sat down next to him. “Sweetie? Are you... god, I was about to ask if you're all right. Of course you aren't.”  


He looked at her then, his eyes so bleak it caught her breath. “I'm sorry, Penny.”  


“Oh. Oh, don't be.” She took his hand in hers and let out a shuddering breath at how like ice it felt. She started rubbing his poor cold hand between hers and said softly, “None of this was your fault. Your cousin was disturbed. A... a psychopath or something.”  


“Must run in the family,” he said, voice low.  


She shook her head firmly. “No. We're not doing this again. You are _not_ a monster, Brahms.”  


He shook off her hands and pulled away from her. His eyes shone with a light she didn't particularly care for. “You barely know me, Penelope. You can't say that.”  


It was true but the statement felt like a slap in the face to all they'd experienced together. “I know what you've shown me,” she argued, feeling her cheeks get hot. “You've been nothing but sweet with me, you make me happy and I never thought--”  


“Stop.” Brahms actually winced, looking away from her. “Oh, Pen. Stop. Please. You don't... you don't know who I am. The things I've done. Things that, if you knew, you wouldn't look at me the way you are right now.”  


“So tell me,” Penny said, knowing she sounded exasperated and hating that she couldn't be more understanding with him.  


Brahms stared down at his hands. “I'll start at the beginning. Don't interrupt me. When I've finished, I'm going to leave this room and you aren't going to stop me.”  


A lump formed in Penny's throat. Her vision swam with tears and when she blinked, she felt the droplets fall down her still too warm cheeks. Brahms looked at her and his face crumbled. He reached a hand to touch her face but dropped it before he could make contact.  


“All right, Pen. I'm telling you everything.”

~*~

My parents had me late in life. They'd been trying for a child for years and years and they'd almost given up hope. Well. My father had given up hope but my mother refused to believe that she'd never carry a child, no matter what doctors told her. And then, one day, she found out she was pregnant with me.  


I was coddled all through my childhood, some would say over protected. My mother didn't like me to play with other children so I was mostly alone. When I was about six years old, I think my father talked her into letting me have a playmate. He was worried that I was getting too strange, spending time alone. I'd invent games in my head and it must have looked odd playing them out by myself. So my mother spoke to a woman in town she was on friendly terms with, Mrs. Cribbs, and that's how it came about that the woman's daughter, Emily, became my first and only friend.  


Emily and I would play together for hours. She wasn't as odd as me. I think... she may have been a little simple so her mother was grateful for someone wanting to play with her when the other children shunned her or tormented her, depending on their moods. They treated me the same way. We'd run around the grounds together, my imaginative games much more fun with a second person. I came to love her very, very much.  


Of course, all this time, there was Ben. His mother came to visit often and she'd bring him along to play with me. And... well. You saw what he was like. He became jealous of Emily and me and did what he could to split us up. There wasn't much he could do; Emily rarely came to visit when my aunt and Ben came to stay. He got his opportunity though, on my eighth birthday. He lured Emily into the woods and smashed her head in with a rock. Then he blamed it on me.  


My parents believed him. It was strange, as much as they adored me, they always believed him over me. The police came to investigate and I was sent into the dining room to wait to be questioned. They spoke to my parents first. Then suddenly, the room was in flames. I realize now that Ben set the fire and blocked me in. Everyone evacuated the house and it took a long time before someone finally found me. My father. I'd hidden in a corner breathing through a wet napkin so the smoke inhalation hadn't killed me. I was badly burned, though. Obviously. My father hid me away in the attic and told everyone I'd died in the fire and that was that. I found out recently that the authorities hadn't believed him for one second but they happily took the cash bribes he handed out to let the whole thing go.  


I recovered by myself, locked in the attic. My father would bring up food for me but I never saw my mother once during that time. I cried often, screaming for my mother, but she never came. They stopped having people over, since they couldn't predict when I'd start raging and how would they explain my cries, anyway?  


It was during this time that I started having the dreams. They were about you, Pen. Or at least a version of you, the one we saw in the mirror today. I got a glimpse of another life, of what could have been if I'd only met you. And I fell in love with her, that Penny. She gave me comfort when I was lonely, talking about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and running with me on a beach somewhere, probably Cornwall. They weren't like any other kind of dream. They felt real. As time went on, Penny got older and I did, too. She'd reference events that I didn't remember and I started to realize I was an interloper in someone else's life.  


For a time, I started to despair. My parents had the house rebuilt with the secret tunnels you saw, so I could move around at my own convenience. They wanted nothing to do with me and started carrying around this grotesque doll that resembled me, behaving as if that were their son. I was all alone. I couldn't handle being alone anymore and my parents decided to get a nanny for me.  


They would advertise for a position and these women would come out and none of them... none of them were you. They were all right on their own merits but all I could think of was you. I got so angry and... and I was lonely and...  


And.  


Oh, Pen. Please stop looking at me.  


I killed every single one of them. Six women total. Anya Kuznetzof. I stabbed her to death in the hallway upstairs when she saw me spying on her in the bath. Lauren Blakely. I snapped her neck outside when she was trying to run away from the house. Siobhan Rourke. I hanged her from the stairs when she went snooping and found my hidden rooms. Kareena Suresh. I shoved her down a flight of stairs when she kept inviting friends over to the house. Lily William. I slit her throat when she refused to play my music as loudly as I wanted. Rebecca Gold. I smothered her in her sleep when she gave notice and was planning on leaving the house in the morning.  


The last nanny was American, like you. Greta Evans. I tried to kill her and our grocery delivery man, Malcolm. They were falling in love, you see. And I couldn't... Greta's ex boyfriend came from America to take her away so I killed him. But Greta stabbed me in the stomach before I could do anything to her. That's where I got that scar that you've noticed but haven't asked me about. Shortly after that, Ben and Lilah appeared and nursed me back to health. Ben said he took care of Greta so I'm sure she's dead, too. The other Brahms wanted me to find out for sure. He also wanted me to stay away from you. He was right. I didn't listen. I'm sorry, Pen. There's so much wrong with me and you didn't deserve to be lumped in with all this. You're supposed to have a happy life.  


I just need you to know one thing. It was the other Penny that I thought I loved, that gave me the idea to see if you existed here as well. But I fell in love with you. Almost from the moment I first met you. You're better than any dream, than some brief glimpse of another person's life. You're lovely.  


Goodbye, Pen.

~*~

Mildred knocked on the door as best as she could with her arms full of shopping bags. After almost a full minute, the door opened a crack, and Penny's crying face peered out.  


“Are you all right, love?” Mildred asked, thinking the stress of the day had finally gotten to her.  


Penny opened the door wider, revealing the room to be empty. “Brahms just went to the police.”  


“What for?” She frowned, wondering if somehow Ben had faked death and come back for one more attack.  


“He's turned himself in.” Penny's face contorted with pain. “For murder.”  


Mildred dropped the bags and gaped at Penny for a full minute. Then her face settled into a hard mask and she said sharply, “Dry your tears, my girl. Change into the clothes I've gotten you and then we're going to the police station and retrieving that foolish nephew of mine.”

~*

They'd put him in a room with a big mirror. He knew police stood on the other side of the glass, watching him. Probably talking about what a sick fuck he was. Brahms kept his hands folded on the table, staring down at them. He blanked his mind of all Penny thoughts, not wanting to picture the horror on her face during his confession, the way her hand had reached out for him through the first half of his recital, the way it had trembled and then fell limply to the bed when he'd gotten to his confessions of murder. His beautiful Pen's face twisted with pain and disbelief.  


His heart lurched and he wondered if he ran at the glass hard enough it would shatter and he could take one of the shards and slit his own throat. No. No, he needed to face the consequences of his actions. He closed his eyes and willed his mind blank again, forcibly pushing Penny away from his thoughts.  


The sound of the door opening made him open his eyes again. A middle-aged man in a sloppy suit walked into the room, eyes bleary and tired.  


“Hello, Mr. Heelshire.” The detective sat down and gave him a forced smile. “Sorry for the delay. I'm Detective Inspector Priestly. I understand you've been here for some time, now. And that you've refused counsel?”  


Brahms nodded.  


Priestly sighed and folded his arms on the table, staring into Brahms's face. “That isn't very wise.”  


Brahms shrugged.  


“I know you've already told the other detectives your story but tell me again. Tell me about the women you've killed, Mr. Heelshire. I'd like to hear it.”  


In a low monotone, Brahms repeated his story. It didn't take as long as it had in previous tellings; he'd gotten good at streamlining it. It also helped that the detective wasn't showing any kind of emotion, just staring Brahms right in the eyes, listening intently.  


When he'd finished, Priestly nodded. “That's the exact same story you've told everyone else. Never wavered once. What did you do with the bodies, Mr. Heelshire?”  


“They're buried all over the grounds. I drew a map for the other policemen.”  


“You did. I saw it myself.” Priestly sat back in the chair. “May I ask another question, Mr. Heelshire?”  


“Go on, then,” Brahms said tiredly. He'd confessed. He'd given them detailed maps. What more could they possibly want from him?  


“Have you ever had any psychiatric treatment?”  


Brahms blinked. “What?”  


“Taken any medications?”  


“What do you mean?” Brahms demanded.  


Priestly leaned forward again, his eyes suddenly so kind it made Brahms sick. “Can I call you Brahms?”  


“What do you mean?” Brahms said again, feeling heat rise into his face.  


“I was there,” Priestly said quietly. “The day of the fire. It was my first case. I was going to interview you in the dining room. You looked so tiny sitting there. Not like now, you've grown so much. You'd wet yourself and no one had even tried to clean you up. Your hands were folded on the table, just like they were when I came into the room just now. And I noticed something: your hands were remarkably clean. There was blood on your clothing, all on your front, but your hands were immaculate. Clean hands yet dirty trousers. It struck me. I thought, 'This child hasn't murdered anyone.'”  


Brahms swallowed hard. If the fire hadn't happened, maybe he wouldn't have taken the blame after all. He searched Priestly's eyes, wondering why the man was telling him all this.  


“I'm going to have to tell you something you'll find difficult to believe, Brahms. But you have to believe me.” Priestly said softly and slowly, “You still haven't murdered anyone.”  


“What do you-- Yes, I have. I've got a fucking map! I told you everything I've done! And Greta Evans, I don't know what's become of her, is anyone even looking for her? While you sit here and... and...” Brahms slammed his fists on the table. “What more do you fucking people _need_? I'm a monster! Lock me up! My parents had the right idea all those years ago; I'm not fit for society! Lock me up and throw away the key, Detective Inspector Priestly!”  


Priestly let him have his outburst and when Brahms had finished yelling, he waited until his breathing was less hectic before speaking. “Brahms, we followed your map. We took cadaver dogs to that house. And son, they didn't smell a thing. Only picked up a scent somewhere in the walls but that's where your cousin had died earlier in the day. We found no blood anywhere there should have been blood. We also looked up every name you gave us and not a one of them has ever been reported missing. There's no crime here, Brahms. Just like in 1991, you've committed no murder.”  


The room spun so suddenly that Brahms had to put his head down on the table. His stomach rolled. He could imagine the knife going deeply into Anya's abdomen, the way she'd bucked upward, her small breasts jutting out, water droplets beading between them. How she'd cried out harshly. It had happened. It was real. It had to be. He could remember it!  


“Brahms? Come with me. There's a couple people who want to see you.”  


When he felt he could stand, he did so, shuffling awkwardly after the detective who opened the door and gestured him out into the hallway. Priestly led him down the hall and back into the main reception area. Brahms frowned when he saw Mildred and Penny sitting together, clutching hands. When the women saw him, they both cried out at once and got to their feet.  


“Darling!” Mildred rushed to him and wrapped her arms around him tightly. Brahms suddenly found himself crying and wound his arms around his aunt, pressing his face into her shoulder. “Oh, Brahms. My darling boy. Shhhh. Hush now.”  


“I don't understand,” Brahms said, his voice breaking. “I don't understand, Millie.”  


“Let's get you back to bed,” Mildred said quietly. “Come now, Brahms.”  


“But the things I've done--”  


“I know. Even if you'd done them, I'd love you anyway. But you haven't, darling. You don't belong here. You never did. Come along, now.”  


Confused and sick, Brahms let his aunt guide him from the police station. He watched through blurry vision as Penny opened doors for them, tears falling down her face. He'd put her through so much. She'd had a terrible day, abducted and terrorized and abused, then he'd spewed his whole dark life story to her. Why was she still here? She should have run as fast as she could away from him.  


Instead, she got into the driver's side of the car as Mildred got him settled in the back and she drove them to the b&b, all the while glancing at Brahms from time to time with the warmest, kindest expression he'd ever seen.  


He coughed out a sob and then said, “I love you, Pen.”  


Penny's eyes smiled at him in the rear view mirror. “I love you, too.”  


The words were so unexpected yet so welcome. They wrapped around him and he felt himself finally begin to relax. He sagged against the window, Mildred's arm still draped around his shoulders, and he fell asleep with a little smile on his face.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! I totally thought I could wrap this up in like, two chapters but it turns out... *waves hands* Apparently Brahms has some issues to work out before they can move forward. Lots of issues. But the story IS winding down, I just don't know how many chapters it's going to be.

Brahms sat at the table, poking at his lunch. He wasn't very hungry. He knew he should force himself to eat something; he'd lost a great deal of weight since Ben had taken Penny, since Brahms had learned he wasn't really, truly a murderer. Since then, he and Penny had moved in with Mildred at her cottage in Cornwall. It was close to Christmas now and constantly raining. He gave his soup another stir and looked disinterestedly at his sandwich. He really should take a few bites. If Penny saw what he looked like with his shirt off, she'd be horrified.  


They hadn't done anything together in bed besides sleep since it had all happened. It wasn't from lack of desire on his part. A week ago, they'd woken and he'd pulled her to him, and they'd kissed like they had before anyone had tried to murder them but when he'd gotten her sleep shirt off and moved to kiss her breast, she'd winced and he'd backed off. He still remembered watching her undress for bed their first night, seeing her poor bruised little nipple, knowing that Ben had hurt her...  


He hadn't been able to touch her again.  


She was nearly finished with the book. The publishers had understood that she'd needed to take a break and Matthew Danson had sent a very kind card that had had Penny in tears, telling her to take all the time she needed and that her work was well worth the wait. She'd picked her brush up after two weeks and now... Almost finished. She'd have to think about going home to America again.  


Sighing, Brahms set his spoon down. No lunch today. He stood up with his plate and bowl and walked them upstairs to the bedroom he shared with Penny. She was seated at the desk by the window, drawing.  


“I've brought you some lunch, love,” Brahms said.  


“Hmm?” Penny looked up, her eyes hazy. “Oh. Thanks, sweetie.”  


“How's it coming along?”  


“Good. Only two more pages to go.” She picked up the sandwich and took a nibble. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen Penny eat much lately, either. She always looked a little nauseated. She'd had a stomach bug recently; he'd woken up one morning to find her violently retching in the bathroom. “I think the rain's going to clear up in a bit. Want to go for a walk with me?”  


Brahms sat down on the edge of the bed. “I don't think it will, Pen. But if it does, yes, I'll walk with you.”  


“The rain's gotten so much lighter,” Penny argued. “I can hardly hear it against the windows anymore. You really don't think it's gonna stop?”  


“Why would it?” he said with surprising bitterness. “It's been raining non-stop for days.”  


She gave him a sad, sweet smile. “It can't rain all the time.”  


“It can in England,” he said shortly and stood up.  


“Brahms,” Penny said softly.  


“I can't talk right now,” he said. “I've got my therapy session.”  


“Okay. I hope you get what you need from it.”  


He stopped in the doorway and forced himself to untense his shoulders. He was being cruel to Penny. It wasn't fair. He could hear the tears in her voice. “I love you, Penelope.”  


“I love you right back, Brahms.”  


He gave her a little smile over his shoulder without making eye contact and then went downstairs to Mildred's office. She let him use the room for his sessions he had with his therapist over Facetime. After they'd settled at Mildred's house, she'd sought out a good therapist, one who specialized in cult deprogramming and false memories. He felt like he was really making some good headway but he wasn't changing as fast as he wanted to. He wanted to be like the Mirror Brahms and live happily ever after with his Penny. He didn't want anymore nightmares, waking up crying and screaming and worrying Penny.  


She didn't deserve the misery he was putting her through.  


With a heavy sigh, Brahms closed the office door and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

~*~

The rain cleared up after all and Brahms and Penny went for a walk along the beach. The wind was fierce but they were wearing hats and scarves so they were bundled up against the cold. It was good to get out of the house for a little while. Over the wind and the violent crashing of the waves, they weren't able to speak, but Brahms held Penny's hand tightly and hoped she knew how sorry he was for how he'd spoken to her earlier in the day. He could hear Anna, his therapist, in his mind telling him that of course Penny didn't know and that he'd have to tell her.  


When they were walking up the steps to Mildred's cottage, Brahms said, “I'm really sorry, Pen.”  


She didn't speak for a moment as she started unwinding her scarf. Then she said quietly, “I know.”  


“I'm... I'm sad all the time and frustrated. I hate that I've spent years lying to myself. I hate that I'm not the man you deserve.” He'd talked about Penny with Anna and she'd suggested that he tell Penny about his feelings to let her know what page he was on.  


Penny stared up at him incredulously. “I don't _deserve_ anything, Brahms. You don't need to be anything except who you are. You're the man I want and that's more important than what I 'deserve'. I love you.”  


He closed his eyes, basking in the words. He'd heard them over and over but they hadn't lost their power to instantly fill his heart with joy. “God, Pen. I couldn't possibly love anyone more than I love you.”  


She smiled, her eyes sparkling for the first time in ages. “Hmmm, you might have to prove it, mister.”  


“How?” Intrigued, he followed her inside and they put away their cold weather things in the hall closet.  


Penny tilted her head to the side in a flirty fashion, swaying her body close to his. “We could go upstairs...”  


His heart lifted. “And?”  


“I could take these stupid clothes off.” She plucked at the shoulder of her jumper. “Maybe slip into something more comfortable?”  


“Like?” He stepped closer, not quite touching her.  


Her eyes were wide and lovely, so bright blue as she smiled up at him. “Liiike nothing at all?”  


“Yes,” he growled and grabbed her hand.  


Laughing breathlessly, Penny led them in a running, stumbling dash up the stairs. Luckily, Mildred was away for a couple of days to visit one of her other unmarried older lady friends, something she did a few times a month to keep in touch with the many friends she'd made over the years. They'd have the house all to themselves.  


Penny dashed into their room, giggling, and tugged her jumper up and off, revealing a flimsy pale pink camisole. Brahms tackled her to the bed and she shrieked laughter, squirming around underneath him.  


“Hey,” he said teasingly, giving her ass a little swat. “Stop moving like that.”  


“Like what?” She raised her hips and rubbed her round, pretty ass against his growing erection. “This?”  


He breathed out harshly through his mouth. “Yeah, that. You know I finish too soon when I take you from behind.”  


She giggled again and said, “You like my ass that much, huh?”  


“It's a magnificent ass,” he said, giving the ass in question an admiring caress. “But it's the sounds you make that do me in. I'd rather see your face any day. Face to face with my beautiful Pen.”  


“Okay.” When he released her a little bit so she could flip to her back, she smiled at him tenderly and brushed a curl off of his forehead. “Vanilla missionary sex for my beautiful Brahms.”  


“You aren't just humoring me, are you?” he said, musingly. “You really think I'm beautiful.”  


“I really do.” She started stroking his face. He'd shaved his beard a week ago to experiment with his look and Penny had liked the result. Now, he was all stubbly but she said she liked that, too. “It's your eyes. And cheekbones. And your smile. And--”  


Brahms laughed. “My everything, apparently.”  


“Yup!” She gave him a sweet smile and then lifted her hips again, rubbing against him. “Now take off your everything so I can see your everything.”  


Grinning, Brahms whipped off his own jumper and undershirt, feeling smug when she started cooing and palming his chest. She didn't remark on his weight loss but at the moment she was looking at him through love eyes and might not notice any flaws. Her mouth lifted to his neck to kiss and nuzzle and her hot breath on his damp skin made him shiver and press a kiss to her temple.  


“This needs to come off as well,” he murmured, tugging at the hem of her camisole.  


“I know. Gimmie a second.” She nuzzled his neck a little more and sighed dreamily. “I just really like your neck.”  


Brahms grinned but said, “Of course you do. You really like my everything. We've covered this.”  


“I know. But you've spent so many years alone and hating yourself, I want to give you every single compliment I think of.” She lay back down so she could look up into his eyes and then reached up to brush her thumb along his left cheekbone.  


He swallowed hard. He had no idea what to say. Everything that came to mind was inadequate. _You're so lovely. I'm so glad I finally found you. Every single day with you is slowly bringing me back to life and I can never, ever repay you._  


“Anyway,” Penny said softly, letting the moment pass. Her eyes sparkled. “Time for my everything now, hmm?”  


“I've been waiting patiently,” Brahms said after clearing his throat.  


Giggling again, Penny tugged the camisole up and off. She still wore a simple neutral colored bra and she quickly unsnapped that and tossed it to the side. She smiled at him and laid back once more, her round, full breasts drawing his gaze. Her rosy nipples were erect, and he eagerly lowered his mouth to one, sucking softly. He looked up at Penny's face to make sure this was okay and saw her wincing, face turned away.  


His stomach sank and he drew back from her. “It was too soon to do this,” he said quietly. “I'm sorry.”  


Penny sat up, eyes wide. “You need to stop?”  


“No. You do.” He turned away from her and searched the floor for his jumper.  


“What? No, I don't. Come here.”  


“Pen. You still can't have me anywhere near your breast.” His cock ached but he ignored it. “It's fine.”  


“What?” she said again. “No! I'm not-- My breasts are just kind of sore, okay? We can do this but maybe don't mess with them a whole lot?”  


He laughed humorlessly. “Pen, I'm not going to force you to do something that makes you uncomfortable.”  


“You're _not_. I swear that I'm just sore, okay?”  


“Your bruises went away weeks ago.”  


“It's not--!” She put her head in her hands. “Brahms, I really want this. I swear. You aren't 'forcing' me into anything. I've wanted you for weeks but I thought that _you_ weren't ready yet.”  


Brahms gave her a baffled look. “Why?”  


“Because we started fooling around not that long ago and you stopped it suddenly.”  


“Because I tried to kiss your nipple and you flinched.”  


“That's because--!” She sighed heavily. “Okay, I can't-- I promised Mildred that we'd talk to Anna and figure out how to tell you--”  


“Tell me what?” Brahms stared at her incredulously. “You told Mildred we weren't having sex?”  


“Oh my god! Of course not!” Penny threw her hands up in the air. “Ugh! Brahms! Okay, let me connect the dots for you, okay? I have sore breasts? I cry easily? I'm sick all the time?”  


“Sick all the time?” Brahms frowned. “Are you ill, Pen?”  


“You found me throwing up one morning! Sick in the morning?” Penny emphasized. When Brahms just stared at her, Penny suddenly looked very sad. “You don't know.”  


Brahms started to feel frightened. “Are you ill?” he asked again. He reached out and cupped her face. Was she dying? He'd waited his whole life for her and finally found her, only for her to die of some awful illness?  


“Kind of, but it's temporary.” She smiled and took his hand from her face, linking her fingers with his. “Brahms... I'm pregnant.”  


“Pregnant,” he breathed. He looked down at her soft tummy, the tummy he'd enjoyed kissing in the past. Soon it would grow, full of his child. “You're going to have a baby? My baby?”  


She nodded slowly, eyes welling with tears though she smiled. “Yeah.”  


“You want... you want to have a child with me?”  


“I'd love it,” Penny whispered and her tears spilled.  


“Oh, Pen. Don't. Don't cry.” He pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. She was pregnant with his child. They were going to be a family. He and Pen and the little one. “I know you've always wanted a family. I'm happy I can give you one.”  


She cried harder and held to him tightly. “I wasn't sure how you'd take it or I'd have told you sooner.”  


He held her while she cried herself out and then they laid back down on their sides, face to face. Brahms stroked her golden hair where it splayed across the pillow. “Mildred already knows?” he asked.  


Penny nodded, wiping the last of her tears from her cheeks. “Yeah. When I suspected what was happening, she took me to the doctor. Once we found out for sure, she asked me to hold off on letting you know. She wanted to talk to Anna first and see if she had any suggestions for the best way to tell you.”  


“I'm not a child,” he said, frowning.  


“No, of course not,” Penny replied reassuringly. “But you're going through a lot right now and... well, a child's a lot more.”  


Brahms squared his jaw. “Well, I'm fine. We're going to be a family. That's that.”  


“So you want to celebrate with me?” Penny asked, eyes sparkling.  


“I do.” He reached down for the snap on her jeans and paused. “I'll leave your breasts alone, though. Why are they sore?”  


“It happens to pregnant women. Something to do with hormones. You can google it later if you want but for the time being, can we get out of our clothes and start fucking already?”  


Brahms's nostrils flared and he eagerly tugged her jeans off and then fumbled with his own. “God, Pen, if I'd known you wanted this as much as me...” He went still when she reached out a hand and traced it along the hair below his belly button, the line of dark hair that disappeared beneath his waistband. “Fuck, if you do that I'm going to finish early.”  


She giggled but dropped her hand and then got to work removing her simple pink cotton underpants. He noticed a small circle of moisture on the fabric over her pussy and he smirked. _I did that._  


“Brahms, you're going so slow,” Penny teased. She heaved a sigh and flopped backwards, letting her legs fall open. “Guess I'll have to take care of this myself...” She let her fingers dance over her pussy lips and her eyes closed, head falling to the side. “Mmm...”  


Breathing heavily now, Brahms couldn't get his hands to move. He'd undone the button and zip of his jeans and gotten them shoved halfway down his thighs but now he forgot what he'd been doing. Not when his Penny was touching herself like this. He watched hungrily as the tip of one finger slipped inside of her and she shivered, drawing up one knee.  


“Oh,” Penny said softly. “If only I had a beautiful man who wanted to do this for me.”  


With a loud snarl that startled her eyes open, Brahms leaped off the bed and viciously pushed his jeans and boxers down in one swift movement. For a moment she looked frightened and he took a second to calm himself down. But then he saw that sparkle in her eye, showing excitement but most of all trust. She knew he wasn't going to hurt her.  


He climbed back onto the bed and propped himself over her. A part of him was still ready to go wild but he kept that part chained. She was pregnant; he didn't want to be too rough and hurt her or their child. His voice was low and dangerous as he lowered his head to hers and growled in her ear, “You said you wanted to fuck?”  


Her arms closed around him, one hand cupping the back of his neck. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice shaking.  


“Are you ready for me, Penny?”  


“Mmm. Mmm hmm!”  


“No, you need to tell me.” He let the tip of his cock brush at her opening and had to grit his teeth hard at how wet she was, how the sound of her gasp made him five times harder. “Do you want me?”  


Her hands scrabbled over his back, trying to push him closer to her. “Oh! Brahms, please!”  


He raised his head from her ear and looked into her eyes, seeing the tears of desperation there. Softening, he lowered his head and kissed her tenderly. Her hands left his back and went to his head, tunneling in his hair as she deepened the kiss and whimpered, lifting her hips.  


“It's been awhile since we've done this,” Brahms whispered between kisses. “I'm probably not going to last long.”  


“Oh god, baby, please,” Penny said, voice breaking. “I need you.”  


That was all it took. He lined himself at her entrance and thrust up hard and fast. She mewled immediately and wrapped her legs around his waist. She was so hot and wet, he was amazed. Not that she hadn't been wet before but this... the damp was coating the fronts of his thighs. Maybe he shouldn't have teased her if she had been wanting and aching this badly.  


“You know you have me, don't you?” he asked and withdrew only to slowly glide in again. “I'm all yours.”  


“Mmm!” She was bucking frantically, wanting him to fuck hard but he knew he couldn't. If he did he'd for sure blow inside her and he couldn't do that to her, not when she was this worked up.  


His voice got ragged as he started to pump steadily, not going at the pounding intensity she wanted but much faster than he'd been moving previously. “I've dreamed of you my whole life. You're the only woman I've ever wanted. Pen... Pen, I love you.”  


Her eyes widened and he felt her pussy clamp him, hard. He moaned at the sensation and then stared in wonder as she shuddered all over. She wasn't quite there yet but she was close, achingly close. He continued his steady, deep thrusting and then gradually sped up, feeling her pussy fluttering all around him, her thighs tensing where they clamped around his waist. She needed more. In the past, that could always be accomplished by nipple play but she was too sore for that. And they were slamming together too hard and fast for him to get a hand between them and rub her clit. There was only one other thing he could think of that was guaranteed to bring her off.  


He clenched his jaw and then rapidly rolled them so she was on top.  


Penny continued rocking her hips and then stopped when she realized where she was sitting. “No!” she gasped and slipped off his cock.  


“Go on,” Brahms said through gritted teeth.  


Coming down from her lust fog, she shook her head. “No.”  


“It's okay,” he said, not sure if he was lying.  


She searched his eyes and said quietly, “No, it's not.”  


Frustrated, Brahms threw his arm over his eyes so he wouldn't have to see her sweetness and sympathy. “Penny, god fucking damn it, can you be fucking selfish just once?!”  


“Excuse me?” she asked, her voice pitching high.  


“I'm trying to do something for you!” He removed his arm and glared at her. “I've been dreaming of you for years. Yeah, she wasn't exactly you, but enough things are similar between the pair of you that I know you _love_ being on top. It's your favorite position!”  


Penny gaped at him and then snapped, “Oh, so I'm supposed to ignore how obviously it makes you uncomfortable and just ride you until I'm satisfied? That's not being selfish; that's rape!”  


The word fell like a stone between them and Brahms felt his eyes well with tears. He rolled away from her so she wouldn't see but of course she had. She hadn't been able to look away from his face since he'd initiated this argument.  


“Sweetheart...” Penny breathed. “Oh. Oh, Brahms...”  


He sobbed and hid his face in his hands. “Don't look at me. Go away.”  


“I'm not leaving you,” she whispered. She tucked herself next to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I'm staying right here.”  


Brahms cried hard into the pillow and Penny held him the whole time. She didn't say anything else, just pressed her cheek to his back and let him cry until his eyes throbbed and his throat ached. When there were no more tears, he simply laid there, exhausted. Despite his physical discomfort, he felt better than he had in a long time. It felt like he'd taken out a splinter; it still kind of stung but he knew the pain was going to eventually fade.  


“I was asleep,” he said quietly. He felt Penny's arms tighten around him for a moment and then loosen. “She got on top of me and... I woke up. I strangled her until she got off of me. I never... I was hard the whole time. How can I--?”  


“That's just physical,” Penny said softly. “Involuntary. It didn't mean that you liked it.”  


“But I--”  


“You wake up with an erection every morning, right?”  


He frowned. “....right.”  


“Well, you didn't work yourself up to that, you know? It just happened; bodies are like that. You were asleep and you were stimulated, so you got erect. That's all it was, Brahms. You didn't secretly like it all along.” She rubbed her cheek against his back and said, “Have you told Anna?”  


“No.”  


“I think maybe you should. She knows a lot more than I do. But I can guarantee you she'll completely agree with me.”  


He wasn't sure he wanted to discuss this with Anna but figured he'd have to if he wanted to not blow up at Penny again. He turned his head and met her soft, concerned gaze. “I'm sorry I yelled at you,” he said, his voice breaking.  


“Shhh. I'm not mad at you.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Let's just rest for awhile, okay? Then we can go downstairs and make something to eat. Maybe find a movie to watch?”  


“I like movies,” he said, snuffling a little.  


She tried to hide a smile but her sparkling eyes gave her away. “I know.”  


“And I like you.”  


“I like you, too.”  


Brahms rolled so he was facing her and pressed his forehead to hers. “I'm going to make this up to you.”  


“You don't have--”  


“Yes, I do.” He closed his eyes. “As soon as we wake up. I'm going to be my best Brahms.”  


As he drifted to sleep, he heard her whisper in his ear, “You already are.”


	21. Chapter 21

When Brahms fell asleep, Penny carefully got out of bed. She was tired and would have loved to sleep but figured if she skipped a nap, she'd fall asleep quicker that night and when Brahms's inevitable nightmare arrived, she'd jolt awake, comfort him, and then fall asleep once more. She knew the lack of sleep was bad for the baby but there wasn't much she could do about it. If she suggested sleeping in separate rooms, Brahms would be hurt and feel rejected. She hated it when his face fell; it was like kicking a trusting puppy who just wanted to cuddle close to her.  


She briefly considered painting in her free time but her workspace was in the room with Brahms and he'd sense her presence and wake up. She could possibly get her supplies and move downstairs but she didn't want to stain any of Mildred's nice things in case she spilled paint. Sighing, she grabbed up Brahms's sweater and pulled it on over her head. She liked the way it hung off of one of her shoulders and felt like Jennifer Beals in Flashdance. Quietly, she pulled open a drawer and got out a pair of leggings, the ones she had patterned with the night sky, and then crept from the room, closing the door softly.  


Downstairs, she started to head into the living room when a knock on the door startled her. She hesitantly crept to the door and peeked through the peephole. There was a box on the porch and a delivery man trotting away to his truck. Pressing a hand to her pounding heart, Penny took a moment to get her breath back. Ben was dead. He wasn't going to turn up at the door again to punch her and take her away.  


The box was from Mildred, addressed to her. Penny gave it a shake and carried it into the kitchen where she got a pair of scissors from the drawer and slit it open. Inside were various pregnancy and parenting books. She started to smile; Mildred knew her too well. The older woman had known that Penny wasn't going to be able to keep the big news of a baby from Brahms for very long. She took the box into the living room and curled up on the couch with a copy of What to Expect When You're Expecting. She read until her stomach growled and then set the book aside.  


As much as she loved Brahms, she'd missed having time to just herself. Even when she was working, she got the sense that he was elsewhere, impatiently waiting for her to be done and then they could spend time together. It was in the way his face lit up with relief when he saw her emerge from her artistic fugue. It would help if he had anything to really do but he had nothing to occupy his time, not needing to earn money for a living. Maybe she could get him to sit down with her and they could brainstorm activities for him to do? Or would that just come off as really condescending?  


Penny grabbed her laptop and headed to the kitchen. She started up a little music and looked through the fridge, deciding on making stir fry for dinner. She got all the ingredients out on the counter and got to work. When she had everything in the pan, stirring the noodles, veggies, and beef, Sex on Fire by Kings of Leon came on and it was a song she could never resist; she started rocking her hips side to side and singing along.  


Suddenly, warm male arms wrapped around her waist and a stubbly chin nuzzled her neck. She melted backwards into Brahms, an arm reaching upward to cup the back of his tousled bed head. “Mmm,” she hummed dreamily as he kissed her neck. All thoughts of how nice it was to have time to herself disappeared. Alone time was nice but sexy Brahms time was even nicer.  


He spun her around and his eyes danced with humor. “I was wondering what happened to my jumper.”  


Her gaze lowered to his bare chest, noting how his ribs showed more than they used to, how his jeans sagged low on his narrow hips. His appetite had dwindled to near nothing since Ben. She leaned forward and kissed his clavicle, determined that he eat something tonight.  


“Did you have a good sleep?” Penny asked softly.  


Brahms nodded, stroking her hair. “I woke up and missed you.”  


“I'm sorry.” He suddenly lifted her up and spun her around. “Eep!” When he sat her on the kitchen island she protested, “Brahms, I'm making dinner!”  


“Here, I'll just...” He reached for the stove top and turned the heat down then plucked the wooden spoon from her hand and tossed it on the counter. “It can wait.”  


“What's so imp-” He gently pushed her so she laid back and then started tugging off her leggings. “Oh! Um, I'm not sure this is gonna work, Brahms. The island's kind of high.”  


“It'll work fine.” He hummed in approval when she lifted her hips, helping get the leggings off. When he'd peeled them down her legs, he opened her thighs wide and stared at her exposed pussy. “God, you're beautiful.”  


Penny rose up on her elbows. “Are you--?” He lowered his head and licked softly between her legs. Penny bit her lip and whimpered. He was so good at this. She tried not to think why that was, that he'd experienced this second-hand from another Penny but felt jealous anyway.  


Brahms glanced up at her face and went still. “What's wrong?”  


She wanted to say “nothing” but knew Brahms wouldn't let it go so she said hesitantly, “You like me best, right?”  


His smile was so bright and beautiful it took her breath away. “Pen, I knew I loved you when you poured all your coffee on the sidewalk so you could spend time alone with me faster. I knew I loved you when I took your dress off that night and you were wearing a corset. I knew when you fucked me in a bookshop, when you made a cake telling me how big my cock was, when you stayed with me through my nightmares the first time and every time since, when you mixed paint the exact color of my eyes. No one can ever compare.”  


Satisfied, Penny nodded. “Okay.”  


“Now, if anyone should be jealous, it should be me.” He lowered his head and kissed her pussy softly. “You got to see a handsome version of me. He was confident and cool and almost as madly in love with you as I am.”  


“_You're_ a handsome version of you,” Penny protested. “And that's totally not who I thought you'd be jealous of.” She winced. Fuck. She hadn't meant to bring up Chris.  


But he surprised her by snorting. “I'm not jealous of your past relationships, Pen. They all led you to me. Now, that poor Mirror Brahms, he's going to wonder his whole life if it was dumb luck that Penny fell in love with him when they were children, if he'd just stumbled into the right place at the right time to win her over. Me? You've been with other men, you know what else is available to you, and you chose me. Out of anyone you could have had, you picked me.”  


Touched, she held out a shaking hand to stroke back the stubborn curls that always hung over his forehead. “Well, how could I just ignore fate like that?”  


“Do you really believe that?” he asked with a teasing smile, echoing her words from much earlier. “Like destiny and soulmates and that sort of thing?”  


Her heart pounded harder and she said sincerely, also echoing his earlier words, “Why else does this feel right?”  


His eyes flashed and he lowered his head to her pussy once more, licking and kissing just how she liked it, slow and good and oh god his tongue was so soft and warm and- and- and- With a subdued cry, she came on his tongue and sagged backwards, suddenly boneless and unable to move.  


Brahms stood upright and licked his lips while looking thoughtful. “Hmm. You taste differently.”  


She raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”  


“You still taste like peaches but now it's a little salty. Is that a pregnancy thing? Your taste changing?”  


Penny laughed. “I don't know, Brahms. It isn't anything I've heard of before but my pregnant friends never discussed their flavors pre pregnancy either, so...”  


He laughed as well and then glanced back over his shoulder at the stove. “The dinner looks all right. Do you want to eat?”  


“I don't think I can move right now.”  


“I'll carry you.”  


She giggled and then sighed. “I love you, Brahms.”  


His face lit up. “I love you, too.”  


Then he carried her to the table and they ate dinner. He had two helpings and Penny started to let herself believe that everything was going to be okay.  


~*~

  
After they'd finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, Brahms wanted to watch television and convinced Penny to join him. He gathered her in his arms and cuddled her close to his chest, running a hand up and down her back as they stared at the screen. Penny wasn't sure what they were watching and didn't really care; she was lulled into a half-sleeping state by his presence.  


When the credits for the show they'd been watching started to roll while the television presenter quickly told them what was coming up next, Penny glanced up at his face. To her surprise, Brahms was frowning as if he were deep in thought. The program they'd been watching didn't really merit that level of contemplation so she asked,  


“Brahms? What's on your mind?”  


He didn't look at her but said slowly, “I was thinking how it all didn't make sense.”  


Penny's stomach sank. “What doesn't make sense?”  


“I didn't kill anyone,” Brahms said. “I'm... willing to entertain the notion that I didn't. There aren't any bodies, no missing women to account for. I can't argue with facts and I'm tired of trying to. But...”  


She sat up to look into his face better. “But what?”  


He turned his troubled eyes to her and Penny wanted to wrap him up tightly and protect him from everything. “But... what happened to Greta? I didn't imagine her stabbing me in the stomach. It happened. Ben and Lilah found me and Lilah nursed me to health. She said I came very close to dying.”  


Penny didn't want to but glanced down at his stomach. His hair growth did a good job of hiding the scars but if she looked hard enough, she could see them. She hated the thought of a screwdriver twisted in his guts, of Brahms on the brink of death. She'd never have met him if he'd died in that god awful house, she'd have no idea that the love of her life was gone forever. The idea chilled her and she swallowed hard, trying to will away her sudden need to cry.  


“Pen?”  


She heard the concern in his tone and gave herself a mental shake. She mustered up a little reassuring smile. “I'm fine. Just... thinking. You have a point.”  


He blinked. “I do?”  


“Mmm hmm. You do.” She reached up and gently stroked his curls back from his forehead, smiling when his eyes closed in bliss. “I want to help you find out what happened to you, sweetheart.”  


“Pen?” He opened his eyes and she was a little thrilled to see a smoldering light within them. “I want to fuck you. Badly.”  


Her mouth had suddenly gone dry but she cleared her throat and laughed lightly, “Wow, so suddenly?”  


He took her hand and placed it in his lap. His cock was hard as granite. “Not sudden,” he growled.  


A little breathless she said, “Okay, do you want to go up--” But she stopped when he suddenly got up and lifted her on the couch so she was crouched on her knees.  


“Turn around,” he said roughly.  


Penny eagerly turned so she faced the back of the couch. She stared at the sliding glass door. It was pitch black outside and all she could see in the glass was the reflection of her flushed face. After Brahms had gone down on her on the kitchen island, she hadn't put her leggings on again. Now he spread her thighs wide with his hands and she heard his zip come down slowly.  


“I thought... I thought you didn't want to take me from behind because...” She trailed off when she felt his cock nudging at her opening. She tilted her head to the side, eyes closing of their own accord and hummed in approval.  


When he was seated inside her fully, he said right next to her ear, all low and gravelly, “I can watch you in the glass, Penny.” Then he withdrew and thrust back in, quick and hard.  


Gasping, Penny eagerly bounced backward as Brahms set a frantic, fast pace. She forced herself to open her eyes and in the glass watched him watch her. His eyes glittered, looking dangerous and hungry and oh god she could feel it starting! Softly sobbing, Penny gripped the back of the sofa with one hand and reached between her legs with the other, rubbing herself frantically.  


His hands suddenly went up inside her sweater and cupped her breasts, just underneath their fullness and wonder of wonders, it didn't hurt. He avoided the nipples and that level of concern for her, even in the midst of feral lust, pushed her over the edge and she came calling his name over and over.  


Brahms found his own release not that long after and uttered a long, heartfelt groan into the side of her neck before sagging forwards, draping himself over her as they both panted for air. It felt nice at first, but before too long, her breasts digging into the sofa started to hurt and she could feel his ejaculate starting to leak out of her and more than anything she wanted to clean up and get into a comfortable bed.  


“Up,” she mumbled, tapping his forearm.  


“Sorry.” Brahms withdrew from her body and stood up, sighing. “Bath and then bed?”  


Her heart fluttered at the realization that he knew her so well and she could only turn her head and smile at him, nodding. He returned the nod and then gathered her up into his arms so she clung to his front, legs wrapped around his waist and then carried her upstairs.

~*~

The nightmare came later than usual. Brahms woke up in a cold sweat, crying and calling for Penny and she rolled to him and gathered him close just as she always did. Her soothing voice in his ear and her hand touching his hair worked its magic to calm him down and once he had, he glanced at the clock.  


Four a.m. He'd woken his pregnant love at four a.m. He felt a wave of hatred for himself and got up from the bed.  


“Where are you going?” Penny asked. She started to reach for the lamp.  


“Don't,” he said quietly. “I'm making you tea to help you get back to sleep.”  


“You don't have to--”  


“Yes, I do. You're the mother of my child. I have to take care of you as well as you take care of me.”  


She was quiet for a moment and then he heard her whisper, “Okay, sweetheart. Thank you.”  


He made the tea and then brought it back to her. He knew it took her ages to drop off again once he'd woken her up. He handed her the tea and sat with her as she sipped it and when it was gone, he took the saucer and cup from her and set them carefully on the nightstand. When they got back under the covers, he held her until she'd drifted to sleep. Only then would his guilty conscience let him rest.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Everything kind of sucks right now but at least I can get writing done while I'm in quarantine?

In the days leading up to Christmas, Penny stayed sequestered in their bedroom, finishing the last few pages of her book. Brahms was happy to leave her to it, as he was occupied with his therapy sessions, Christmas shopping, and reading through the few parenting books in the house while feeling a low level of panic.  


He hadn't yet told Anna his latest concerns about Greta and his nearly fatal stabbing or how he laid awake at night dreading being a father and saying or doing the wrong thing to mess up his child for life. He couldn't possibly screw up to the degree his parents had; if the child was naughty, he wasn't going to send it off into the walls to live. His myriad issues were making him feel like a failure; if it wasn't one thing worrying him it was another. He'd finally told Anna about his sexual assault and they'd started unpacking that and how it was affecting his relationship with Penny. He didn't know how Penny possibly put up with him. He could picture her response to that statement though: an indignant look on her face while exclaiming “I don't _put up_ with you, Brahms! I love you and enjoy being around you!”  


She was so supportive, to the point that it felt like all too often she put him first. A few nights of the week, he'd sneaked from bed to sleep in another room so his night terrors wouldn't wake her. She was disapproving when he did this but didn't say anything when he rightly pointed out that she was sleeping for two and didn't need to be jolted awake by his screaming and crying. She'd looked unhappy, though, and had quietly gone to work without asking for a kiss.  


Sighing in frustration just thinking about it, Brahms flipped the page of the book he was skimming and tried to focus. The baby book he'd scooped up from the sofa was open to a chart showing the growth progress of a fetus. According to the horrific looking illustrations, his child was just now growing fingers. He swallowed hard and flipped away from that page and started reading about a... mucus plug?  


Good lord. Penny was amazing for wanting to go through something like this.  


“Brahms?”  


He jolted guiltily and dropped the book, glad that she wasn't a mind reader. “Hi.”  


She gave him a puzzled smile. “Hi.” She held up her tablet and said gently, “I have a surprise for you. Someone wants to talk to you.”  


“Who?” Brahms asked. He didn't know anyone outside of her and Mildred. Maybe she had her best friend Emily on Facetime? He nervously smoothed his hair down, not wanting to look like a prat in front of someone who meant so much to Penny.  


Penny handed him the tablet and he accepted it with shaking fingers. He nearly dropped the thing when he saw who was on the screen.  


Greta Evans's face smiled kindly up at him. “Hi, Brahms. I'm glad to see that you're okay.”  


“You're...” He couldn't speak for a moment and looked from her face to Penny's and then back again. “I don't...?”  


“Penny told me a little bit about what you've gone through,” she said softly. From behind her, he saw a sparkly Christmas tree. “There's some confusion about what happened that night, apparently. When you were hurt?”  


He didn't really know how to tell her that she'd stabbed him so he kept quiet, breathing shakily through his nose.  


“I guess, um. I should start at the beginning? Do you remember Cole showing up at the house?”  


“Yes,” Brahms replied, nodding.  


“Okay. Good. Well, Cole invited himself to stay the night and Malcolm stayed out in the car because he was worried about leaving me alone with him. The doll and I were upstairs and I asked it for help and you used some dead rats to write a threatening message to Cole in blood.”  


Brahms nodded again. So far this sounded like what he remembered.  


“Well, Cole started yelling and I ran downstairs and Malcolm came inside and we were all arguing with each other and Cole broke the doll. Then the walls started shaking and you burst out of the mirror.”  


“Right,” Brahms whispered and closed his eyes when Penny placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  


“You picked up a shard of glass and told Cole to get out of your house. I think he would have fought you but, um, you looked kind of scary. Your mask was... well. You know. So he got himself together and ran out and I'm sorry but Malcolm and I were ready to do the same. But you said to us, 'No, don't go. Please.' And you dropped the glass.”  


Brahms frowned. “I don't...”  


“You don't remember it that way. I know. Penny told me.” Greta drew in a shaky breath. “Oh, Brahms.”  


“So then, how did I...?”  


Greta bit her lip for a moment. “I kind of panicked and told you to go to bed. You went ahead of me and I was still kind of freaked out, so I went through a drawer and found a screwdriver in case you turned on me. Malcolm didn't want me going with you alone so he followed after us. Up in your room, I pulled the covers back and told you to get in and you just stood there, staring at me. I realized you'd seen the screwdriver in my pocket and you dove for it.”  


Brahms was shaking his head and Penny's grip on his shoulder tightened.  


“Malcolm came in and told you to leave me alone but once you had the screwdriver you didn't come at me. You... you stood there looking at me for a second and then you just...” She clasped her hands and mimed stabbing herself in the gut. “Without any hesitation you just stabbed yourself. I wanted to help you but I didn't have any medical training. Malcolm said we needed to go get help, to get the authorities involved. So... I'm sorry but we drove off and left you there. I think we should have called someone and stayed by you but we were both just so thrown off. I mean, how often does a presumed dead person come crashing out of a mirror? We were happy for any excuse to leave, I think.”  


“I understand,” Brahms said, voice trembling.  


Greta frowned at him, looking troubled. “We got to the police station and they didn't believe our story. They didn't even believe Malcolm and he's a local. Finally, someone humored us and followed us back to the house. When we got there, the door was locked and when the officer knocked, some guy claiming to be Benjamin Heelshire opened the door. He said he was house-sitting for his aunt and uncle and had never seen me before in his life. And the officer didn't even try to search the place or anything, he just apologized for bothering him and he left us.”  


“The police in that area are totally useless,” Penny muttered. “With one or two exceptions, maybe.”  


“The guy threw out my bag of stuff and told me not to come back, not unless I wanted to end up like you, Brahms. I thought that meant you were dead and I was so scared...” Greta cleared her throat. “I didn't know what else to do so I just went home. Malcolm never heard anything else so I was in suspense, wondering what happened until Penny found me.”  


Brahms whipped around to stare up into Penny's face. “You found Greta for me?”  


“She was the only nanny you couldn't account for,” Penny said. “I wanted to help you get some peace of mind.”  


“Brahms, I'm really glad she found me.” When he looked back at the screen, Greta's eyes were wide and sincere. “I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't stopped Cole. Well, he probably would have killed us.”  


Overwhelmed, Brahms could only muster, “I...”  


Gently, Penny took the screen from his hands. “Thanks, Gret,” she said softly. “I really appreciate you taking the time to talk with us. It'll make all the difference to Brahms and his recovery.”  


“I'm just so glad he's okay,” Greta said, her voice cracking.  


“I know,” Penny said soothingly. “I'm gonna let you go and you enjoy your time with your family. Merry Christmas, Greta.”  


“Merry Christmas, Pen. Bye.”  


“Bye.”  


Brahms stared at her in disbelief as she set the tablet on a table and then came to sit beside him. She reached out for his hand and let out a soft exclamation at how he was trembling.  


“How are you doing?” she whispered, holding tightly to his hand.  


“I did it to myself,” Brahms said, slowly shaking his head. “I did it to myself.”  


Penny's eyes welled with tears. “Brahms, you saved two lives that night. Don't forget that part. You're a hero.”  


He flinched and looked away from her. “Let's not over-state the situation. In my mind, I was imagining killing everyone and assaulting Greta. I made myself believe that I strangled her and--”  


“Hey.” Penny cupped his cheek, making him look at her. “Your actions were so heroic and brave that you had to make up the worst to fulfill your monster narrative. Okay? It doesn't mean you're a bad person. You've never killed anyone.”  


“I killed Ben,” Brahms snapped.  


Penny's gentle look turned steely. “That was self defense. I'm not going to sit here and let you beat yourself up for killing that son of a bitch.”  


“Why are you like this?!” Brahms knocked her hand away from his face, looking away when her eyes filled with shock and hurt. “God damn it, Penny!”  


“Oh, what now?!” Penny surprised him by shouting. “How have I offended you this time by being your fucking girlfriend, Brahms?”  


“I'm not offended!” he shouted, realizing how stupid that sounded. “You were in that house with me! Why are you so unaffected by this? Why do you go out of your way to coddle me when I know he hurt you. I have a feeling he did more than just bruise your nipple. Am I right?” When she looked away, he groaned and dropped his face into his hands. When he next spoke, he wasn't yelling anymore. “Penelope, did you even work on your illustrations this week? Or were you spending all that time finding Greta?”  


Her silence was all the answer and he sighed long and hard, rubbing his hands over his face. “Pen...”  


“I'm not unaffected by what happened,” Penny said, her voice tight and hard. “How fucking dare you say that to me. I'm terrified every time someone comes to the door. I have dreams too, but I just wake up and feel sick until I roll over and find you. Then I don't feel as alone.”  


His heart twisted. “Why didn't you tell me?”  


“And add more to the pile of shit you're already having to sift through?” Penny threw up her arms. “You have it way worse than me so who am I to complain?”  


Brahms shook his head. “Of course you can complain. There are people who have it even worse than I do but I can still be affected by my problems. So can you.”  


“Whatever.” Penny started to get up but he grabbed her arm.  


“Hey,” he said, gently. “Come on. You know that, right? That you don't have to have as dire circumstances as mine in order to be upset about something? You were orphaned at a young age and your grandmother's gone. It's Christmas time. Don't you feel sad about that?”  


“Stop it,” Penny said fiercely. When he continued to hold her wrist and search her eyes, her face started to crumble and she looked away from him. “Please let me go.”  


“You don't have to be the stoic strong woman with me,” Brahms insisted. “I'm not made of glass; I'm not going to break. I've been through hell, yes, but I'm getting help. That doesn't mean you have to put your life and your feelings on hold out of concern for me. I want you to be partner, not my caretaker. Okay?”  


Tears were flowing freely down Penny's cheeks. “But if I don't take care of you then I start dwelling on everything and I can't...”  


“Come here.” He gave her hand a tug and she launched herself into his arms, holding on to him tightly. He pressed his face into her hair. “I love you. Thank you for finding Greta for me, but I'd rather you'd spent that time finishing your obligations. Matthew's been remarkably patient.”  


“But I'm scared.” Penny held him tighter. “Once I'm finished then I have no reason to be here anymore. I'll have to go home. I'm only here on a work visa, I can't stay forever.”  


Stupidly, he hadn't really thought of that. He shut his eyes tightly in frustration with himself then made himself relax and nuzzled her hair. “Do you think something like that's going to stop us?”  


She choked out a sob. “But I live so far away...”  


He laughed softly and pulled back to smile into her weepy face, brushing her hair behind her ear with loving fingers. “Pen, the hardest thing I've ever done was leaving that house. It's the only place I've known most of my life but I left it for you. Everything else from here on out is easy. What's an ocean and a continent to you and me? We'll make it work. You'll go back home and when I'm able, I'll follow you.”  


“Do you promise?” she asked, wiping her face with the back of her hand in a way that touched his heart.  


“I promise.” He kissed her softly and drew back to look into her eyes. “There's no way I'm letting you slip out of my life.”  


She smiled and even though her nose was dripping had her face was a little blotchy, she looked beautiful. He kissed her again then stood and pulled her to her feet as well.  


“Mildred will be home tomorrow. Why don't we get this place decorated for Christmas? I think I saw some decorations in the garage. And we need to go get a tree. How does that sound?”  


Penny squeezed his hand. “It sounds lovely. Let's get to work.”

~*~

When Mildred returned from Edinburgh, she took one step inside her house and gasped. Her home looked like a winter wonderland, soft white lights glowing in the hallway and bright sprigs of holly laying on tables. When she went into the lounge, she saw a lovely Christmas tree wrapped in bright lights with a shining gold star on top. Brahms and Penny were asleep on the sofa, curled up together with the now empty box of decorations next to them.  


Mildred lightly tapped Brahms's shoulder until he woke up. “Hello, darling,” she whispered. “You two have been busy.”  


He yawned and gave her a sleepy smile. “Do you like it, Millie?”  


“I love it. Now why don't you and your young lady go upstairs to bed?”  


Yawning still, Brahms carefully got to his feet without jostling Penny then lifted her into his arms. She didn't wake and snoozed peacefully on his shoulder.  


“Goodnight, Millie.”  


“Goodnight, you silly boy.”  


That night, there were no nightmares and everyone slept until morning.

~*~

“Happy Christmas!”  


They pulled apart their crackers and put on their paper crowns, laughing and teasing one another. Penny was new to an English Christmas but had caught on well enough, enjoying the crackers with terrible riddles inside of them. She'd spent all of Christmas Eve day helping Mildred put together a goose dinner that they now ate happily until a knock came at the door.  


Penny froze and Brahms grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze.  


“I wonder who that could be?” Mildred asked and rose from the table to get the door. She let out a soft cry that made Penny bolt from her chair but she went still when she suddenly heard “Joy to the World.”  


“Carolers,” Brahms said, kissing her cheek. “Just carolers, Pen.”  


“Right.” Penny let out a shaky breath. “We um, we made cookies earlier. I guess they'll want some.”  


Penny picked up a plate of frosted sugar cookies from the table and followed Brahms into the hall. Mildred stood holding the door open wide, hand over her heart and a smile on her face while a pack of middle school-aged children sang with enthusiasm if not any real skill. When they'd finished, they happily accepted the cookies Penny offered them and clattered off the porch calling, “Happy Christmas, Ms. Heelshire!”  


“Happy Christmas!” Mildred said after them and closed the door. “Well! Why don't we open a few gifties, mmm?”  


Standing in front of the tree, Mildred handed each of them identical sized garment boxes wrapped in paper patterned with reindeer. Inside were matching pajamas that were red and patterned with jolly looking snowmen. Penny had to giggle at their kitschy charm.  


“Millie,” Brahms said, wrinkling his nose. Penny elbowed him for his rudeness.  


Mildred only laughed. “It's traditional! Pajamas on Christmas Eve so you can wear them on Christmas day. Well?”  


“I love them, Mildred, thank you.” Penny handed Mildred her own garment box. “Great minds...”  


Tearing the paper off and lifting the top of the box away, Mildred started to chuckle. “You ridiculous girl. I love you.” She lifted out a silly Christmas jumper of reindeer standing together in a kick line.  


Penny felt her heart squeeze and when Mildred lowered the sweater back into the box, Penny leaned into her and hugged her tightly. “I love you too, Mildred.” She was caught by surprise but Mildred hugged Penny back and for a moment, Penny allowed herself to pretend that her grandmother was still alive.  


“Well, I suppose it's time for bed,” Mildred said when they'd pulled back from their hug. She smoothed a hand down Penny's tumbled hair and smiled over at Brahms. “Good night, my darlings.”  


“Good night, Millie.”  


When Mildred had left the room, Penny fussed with her pajamas in their box, ready to go up to bed.  


“Wait,” Brahms said softly.  


She paused and smiled up at him. “What is it?” Her smile widened when he tossed his pajamas aside and came closer to her, staring at her with open wonder. She'd never been with anyone like him before, someone who so openly loved and admired her. Sometimes it was overwhelming but most of the time, like right now, it felt fantastic.  


When he stood in front of her, he gently took her box away and tossed it with his, taking her hands. She detected a slight tremor in them as his eyes stared deeply into hers. “Pen, I love you. You know that by now but I can't ever stop saying it. You don't mind, do you?”  


She laughed lightly and touched his scarred cheek with the tips of her fingers. “Of course not.”  


His smile widened. “Right. And... I'd like to keep on telling you. Forever, if you'd let me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box.  


Penny's heart skipped a beat and she stared at the box in his palm. _Oh, god._  


He searched her face and his smile turned sad. “I thought so.”  


Guilty tears welled up in Penny's eyes. “Brahms... I'm sorry, there's just--”  


“There's so much already going on,” he whispered. “I know.” He opened the box and showed her a beautiful amethyst ring in rose gold. “That's why I'm not asking you right now.”  


Confused, Penny looked away from the ring and up into his eyes. “You're not?”  


“Well, I was going to if you had looked thrilled. I was hoping you would be, but I expected you to look how you did right now.” He held the box out to her. “So I thought you should have this anyway. It's my promise to you that I'll come find you. Once I'm in the mental head space to be a father and husband, I'll be right there to ask you.”  


She smiled, her tears spilling, and the relief on his face was so sweet that she wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed tightly, pressing her face into his chest. “I'd be happy to wear your promise ring, Brahms.”  


“Good,” he said, his voice gruff. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and murmured, “Happy Christmas, Penny.”  


“Merry Christmas, Brahms.” She stepped back and took the box from him, taking a moment to admire the ring. Amethysts were her birth stone and she'd always liked them. Carefully, she lifted the ring from its velvet bed and slipped it onto her left ring finger. “Oh, it's beautiful.”  


“So are you,” Brahms said and then laughed delightedly when Penny made a comical face at his cheesiness. “Well, you are!”  


“Yeah, yeah. Get your jammies and let's go up to bed, Romeo.” Penny gave him a teasing smile and picked up her garment box, handing him his.  


Brahms wrinkled his nose. “Can't we just sleep nude?”  


“It's too cold for that. Besides, Santa Claus doesn't visit the houses of boys and girls staying up late screwing each other's brains out.”  


“You know that for a fact, do you?” Brahms followed her up the stairs.  


Penny laughed softly and lowered her voice so she wouldn't disturb Mildred as they approached her bedroom. “No, but your aunt was sweet to buy these for us so we should wear them and be grateful. I haven't gotten a silly auntie gift like this before. I really do like it.”  


Brahms was quiet until they were safely in their room with the door shut. “Okay, you make a good point. But are you sure about Santa's disapproval?”  


“Pretty sure, yeah.” She shrugged at him, starting to get undressed.  


“What if I just eat your pussy?” Brahms asked.  


“Hmmm.” Penny paused and pretended to think about it. “I think he'd be okay with that.” Then she let out a playful shriek as he tackled her to the bed.  


Santa may have passed over the house that night, as Penny changed her mind about the sex ban midway through her first orgasm. When they finally settled down, breathless and naked under the covers, they decided they'd wear the pajamas in the morning.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be two chapters but I thought, "Oh, get on with it" so here it is! I should have the next chapter out very soon. I hope everyone's healthy and safe.

On Boxing Day, Penny finished her final illustration. Milo and his little sister walk off into the sunset together as he pledges from that day forth to never tell lies ever again. She sat back in her chair and stared down at it. Usually, she felt exultant once she'd completed a project. Now, while she did feel some pride in her work, there was also a heavy feeling in her heart.  


She'd have to leave Brahms soon. She'd already made her travel plans but now it all felt real. On the third of January, she'd be on a plane back to the States and Brahms would still be here fighting his demons alone. Penny slumped back in her chair and pressed a hand over her eyes. She knew Brahms would be annoyed to hear her say such a thing. He'd probably counter with, “And you'll be alone coping with pregnancy! Don't worry about me, just take care of yourself!”  


“He's right,” Penny mumbled. It went against her nature but she was going to have to start putting herself first. In the mean time, she still had her job to do. She took out her phone and snapped a picture to send to Matthew. She was going to give her painting a couple of days to dry before sending it out but still wanted him to know she was done and get a sneak peek.  


Standing and stretching, Penny went to the bedroom door and opened it, calling out, “Done!”  


“Done?” Brahms's voice came back, faintly.  


“Yeah!”  


“Congratulations, darling!” Mildred's voice called out, closer than Brahms'.  


“Thanks!”  


“We should celebrate; would you like to go out to dinner?”  


It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, since Brahms was so uncomfortable in restaurants. _I like restaurants, though. And I wanna go._ Finally she called back “Yeah, that sounds great!”  


“Excellent! Why don't we leave at seven? There's a wonderful place in town I think you both would like.”  


“Cool!” Penny waited but it seemed as if the conversation was finished. She heard footsteps on the stairs, though, and Brahms appeared, a bright smile on his face.  


“You're brilliant,” he enthused and scooped her up, hugging her tightly.  


“You haven't even seen it yet,” she squeaked.  


“Don't have to. I already know it's perfect.” He still followed her to the desk, though, and admired the painting, pointing out how he liked that the little sister had loose hairs coming out of the ends of her braids. He always noticed the little things in her work, making her feel clever for putting them there when he started praising her.  


Penny reached out and grasped his hand. “Thanks, sweetie. You don't mind going out tonight, do you?”  


He blinked at her in surprise. “Of course not. You want to, right?”  


She nodded. “Right.”  


“Then I don't see the problem.”  


“There isn't one. I just...” She bit her lip and looked away. “I've been thinking about it a lot, what you said the other day. How I always put you first and ignore my own feelings and stuff.”  


Brahms didn't reply but looked concerned, his hold on her hand tightening.  


She drew in a breath. “I was wondering why I do that and um. I think I figured it out.”  


He tugged her over to the bed and encouraged her to sit down. He still held her hand but gave her space and she suddenly loved him so much she wanted to cry. She actually felt her eyes start to tear up but did her best to ignore them for now and cleared her throat.  


“When my parents were killed, we got the call from the police about mid-afternoon. Grandma and I were expecting my parents later in the day and we were both in the kitchen when the phone rang. I'll never forget it. I was drawing and she was filling out a cross-word puzzle. She almost didn't even get the phone, she was so engrossed in what she was doing. But finally she got up and...” Penny cleared her throat again. Her need to cry was getting stronger but she wasn't going to give into it, not until she got this out. She had to get this out. “And she just stood there saying 'What?!' over and over. Her voice kept getting louder. It was so scary, I-I just froze. Grandma had her back to me and she put her hand on the wall like, like she was gonna fall down. And when she started crying, I wanted to run. All I wanted was to run upstairs and hide under the covers, like you do from monsters.”  


Brahms's beautiful green eyes welled with tears and she had to look away from him. “When she hung up the phone, she just stayed there holding on to the wall for awhile and then she straightened up and said 'Penny.' Not like she was speaking to me, but like... like she'd just remembered I was there. And she came over and knelt next to my chair and all I could stare at was the snot bubble in her nose while she told me that my mom and dad weren't coming home.”  


“Oh, love,” Brahms breathed.  


Penny's chest started to hitch. “I couldn't even cry. I don't think I understood. Not really, I mean, I was five. I hadn't even had a pet yet, so I wasn't introduced to death early that way, you know? So I just sat there kind of stunned. Grandma had me go into the living room and she put Nickelodeon on for me and then she spent the day making calls. I guess we had dinner but I don't really remember much about that. I do remember laying in bed when it all finally hit me. My parents were supposed to come home that day. My mom should have been the one to put me to bed. She'd sing 'You Are My Sunshine' and... and...” She couldn't hold the tears back any longer and Brahms reached out for her, pulling her into his lap and cradling her to his chest.  


“I wanted her so bad, it hurt like a physical pain. Right here.” Penny pressed a shaking hand to her heart.  


“I know,” Brahms whispered, kissing her hair. “I know, my love.”  


He did, too. Her eyes slid shut and she clutched his shoulders, just absorbing love and comfort from him. “So I...”  


“You don't have--”  


“Yes, I do. Please, Brahms.”  


He nuzzled her head. “Okay. When you're ready, Penny.”  


If they waited for that, they'd never get to the end of her story. Penny sniffled and continued, “So I started crying. I got out of bed and ran down the hallway to Grandma's room, wanting her to hold me. When I got there, though, she was sitting up in bed holding this big framed picture of my mom that my dad kept on his desk. It's a beautiful picture, I have it on my dressing table at home now. It's black and white and she's got this big, beautiful smile and a flower behind her ear. Grandma was holding this picture to her chest, clutching it for dear life, and kept saying, 'My Cici, my Cici.' My grandma was a tall woman, almost as tall as you, but she looked so _small_ in that bed. Her pain had made her shrink. And it hit me... my grandma had lost her only child. None of her siblings were alive. Her parents were long gone. And here she was, having outlived her baby girl. And I... I just went back to bed.”  


“Pen...” Brahms breathed, his face pinching with pain. “Oh, no.”  


Penny nodded. “Yeah. It was right then. From that point forward, I haven't wanted to bother anybody so I just keep my misery quiet or tell myself that so many other people have it worse than me. I haven't noticed I did that until you pointed it out.” She felt herself begin to calm as he stroked her hair. “I've never told that story to anyone before, not even Emily.” A thought struck her and she drew back to look into his face. “Did... the other Penny tell the other Brahms?”  


“No, I don't think so. Maybe it didn't happen that way in the other reality.” Brahms tenderly pulled a strand of hair away from her damp cheek and tucked it behind her ear. “Maybe that Penny cried with her grandma in the kitchen, or ran to her grandmother for comfort after she'd put the picture aside and was ready for bed. I don't know. Does it matter?”  


She shrugged. “Kind of. I guess I wanted to know if you'd heard the story before. Sometimes when I talk to you, you get this look on your face like you've heard it all a hundred times and zone out. But I know I haven't told you some stuff so...”  


Brahms grimaced. “I'm sorry, I didn't know I did that.”  


“It's not all the time,” she said, quick to reassure him. “It's just... sometimes. It kind of makes me feel bad.”  


“Kind of?”  


“Okay, it makes me feel bad.”  


Brahms smiled at her a little but then it dropped into a look of contrition. “I'm going to be better about that, Penny. I'm sorry for making you feel bad.”  


She kissed his cheek. “You're forgiven. Thanks for letting me pour my heart out and cry all over you.”  


“Do you feel better?” he asked.  


Penny rested her head on his shoulder. “I do, actually. A lot. Maybe I should do the therapy thing, too?”  


“Only if you want to. I recommend it, though.” He stood with her in his arms. “What do you say to a nice bath before our night out?”  


“What do you think I'll say?” Penny asked, teasingly.  


Brahms chuckled and carried her to the door. “'Extra bubbles, please, Brahms.'”  


She giggled and buried her face into his neck. “Exactly.”

~*~

Penny stood in the airport and honestly felt like she was going to die. She set her suitcases onto the scale for the unsmiling man behind the counter, aware of Brahms standing silently at her side.  


Everything had gone smoothly all morning; they'd woken when Brahms's alarm went off on his phone, Mildred had packed them snacks for the road and had given her an extra big hug in farewell, traffic hadn't been terrible, and now here they were. If only something had gone wrong to diffuse the tension that had been building inside of her up to this moment.  


Now there was no turning back. She stepped out of line and glanced to where everyone had queued up to get through security. She still had time, she didn't need to go quite yet. There was time.  


Brahms smiled sadly down at her and traced a finger down her cheek. “Not much time left, now.”  


“No, don't say that,” Penny whispered. She closed her eyes when he sighed and then felt him lightly kiss her forehead. “Brahms? I've changed my mind.”  


When she opened her eyes, his face was blank. “About what?”  


She slipped her ring off her finger and watched the pain in his eyes but held it out to him all the same. “Ask me again.”  


“What?” He frowned at her.  


“Ask me to marry you.”  


He looked completely baffled now. “You didn't want a romantic Christmas proposal and we spent New Years at an actual _castle_ and now you want me to ask you at Heathrow of all places?  


“Uh huh.”  


His face broke into the sunniest smile and she had to giggle. Then he dropped to one knee and held up the ring. “Penelope Regan Beech, you odd, lovely woman, will you marry me?”  


“Yes.” She laughed again as he surged to his feet and pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly. “This is my promise that I'll always wait for you, no matter how long it takes. No pressure. I want you feeling as best you can when you come back to me.”  


He pressed his face into her neck. “God, I wish I had a date to give you for when that will be but I--”  


“I know.” She pulled back and cupped his chin. “I know. This isn't me pretending that I'm not sad and being brave for you, either. I'm totally sad. I hate that I have to leave and you can't come with me. But... I get it. And I trust you. Okay?”  


Brahms smiled at her and nodded once. “Okay.”  


She plucked the ring from his hand and slipped it onto her finger. Then she tugged on his lapels and in a voice that only trembled a little she said, “Now kiss me goodbye before I start crying in this airport.”  


He kissed her with far too much passion and for way too long considering they were in public but Penny didn't care. She clung to him and kissed back just as fervently, until someone coughing nearby finally brought her back to reality. Reluctantly, she broke the kiss and gave Brahms one last, tight hug before forcing herself to step back.  


“Bye, sweetie,” she said softly.  


“I love you.” His voice broke like he was a boy.  


“I love you, too.” She blew him a kiss and then went to join the security line. She turned to look back at him. He still stood there, his hands in his jacket pockets, and watched her as she removed her shoes and put everything in a bin to go through the x-ray. He stayed as she went through the metal detector. When she'd gotten through the line, she couldn't see him at all but she somehow knew he was still there.  


With a heavy heart, she made it to her gate in time for them to announce boarding. Penny found her seat quickly and had no one next to her during her flight. She curled up in her seat, worrying the ring on her finger and staring out the window. They were up above the clouds and she couldn't see the land, couldn't look down on where she'd left Brahms behind.  


“Miss? Would you like something to drink?” A kind-faced flight attendant asked her.  


It was right then that Penny finally gave way to her tears.

~*~

_Brahms blinked and frowned around the room. After dropping Penny off at the airport, he'd decided to stay the night at Mildred's London flat rather than drive all the way back to Cornwall the same day. He'd fallen asleep on the sofa while reading a special parenting book for dads and now had no idea where he was. Well, at first. In no time at all, he recognized Mirror Brahms's living room. The television was on and he squinted at it, not recognizing the program. He didn't watch much television in his dreams. He looked away from the screen when he became aware of a dull pain in his shoulder. He noticed that his arm was in a sling._  


_Of course. Brahms had been so focused on his and Penny's trauma from Ben's attack, he'd nearly forgotten all about Mirror Brahms and the wound he'd received to his shoulder. Apparently he was still recovering but was mostly all right._  


_He became aware of whispering from behind him. He glanced and a little golden head ducked quickly out of the room. There was more whispering, louder than before, then a guilty sounding giggle._  


_ “Hello?” Brahms called. “Someone there?” More giggling. He grinned. “Wellll, if no one's there, then maybe I'll just have to eat this bowl of popcorn all by myself...” _  


_Two identical little girls with wild, curly golden hair came running into the room and stopped just in front of him.  
_

__

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_“You don't have popcorn!” one said, glaring at him.  
_

__

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_“Liar pants,” the other said.  
_

__

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_He smiled brightly at them. “Got you out here talking to me, didn't I?”  
_

__

__

_They giggled and as he watched them in their pajamas, bouncing on their little bare feet, their names came to him. Morgana and Cecelia. Max and CC as they preferred to be called. Mirror Brahms had never allowed him near them.  
_

__

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_“Mommy said we can't bug you like we usually do,” Max said.  
_

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_CC stared at him with her wide, green eyes. “Do we bug you, Daddy?”  
_

__

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_“No, of course not,” he said gently. “I think your mother only meant that I'm injured so you have to be gentle with me.”  
_

__

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_CC heaved a long-suffering sigh. “I wish you weren't hurt.”  
_

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_Brahms shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, me too.”  
_

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_The twins linked arms and leaned against one another, concern on their round little faces. It was both adorable and heart-breaking at the same time. Brahms watched the two of them for a moment and then cleared his throat. “Can I ask you something?”_  


_ “Ask,” Max said and CC nodded._  


_ “Are you two happy? Am I a good dad?” _  


_The girls looked aghast and dropped arms, scrambling onto the couch next to him. It looked for a moment like Max was about to launch into his lap but CC grabbed hold of her sister's elbow just in time._  


_ “Yes!” Max exclaimed. “You're the best daddy!” _  


_ “You make snacks, you check under the bed and inside the closet for monsters, you let us play on your piano when we ask nicely, you don't yell all the time,” CC counted off each of these attributes on her fingers, looking very serious as she did so._  


_ “And you do the funny dance!” Max threw her arms up in exasperation, like she couldn't believe they were even having this conversation._  


_CC nodded. “Right. The funny dance. That's the best.” _  


_Brahms stared at them. There was no way he'd ever dance. “The funny dance?” _  


_ “You know,” Max said impatiently. “The funny dance!”_  


_CC slipped off the couch and started demonstrating. She held her arms out slightly bent at her sides and started flapping while taking high steps. She looked like a little heron making its way across a pond. Max came up alongside her and started doing the same thing. Brahms started to chuckle; he had no idea how he'd thought of this “dance” but it probably did look funny with his long, lanky build._  


_ “Girls!” Penny appeared in the doorway and Brahms sat up straight at the sight of her. She looked tired and cranky, her hair up in a messy ponytail but he still couldn't look away. “What did I tell you?!”_  


_Max planted her hands on her hips. “He thinks we don't love him!”_  


_Penny gave him an angry, incredulous look and he said quickly, “No, I never said that. That would be cruel and manipulative; I was just asking them--”_  


_ “He asked if he was a good daddy,” CC said and added loyally, “He is.”_  


_ “Well, say goodnight to Daddy because it's time for bed,” Penny said with a sigh. Her grumpiness seemed to melt a little as she watched the girls dart over to Brahms and then rather delicately kiss him on the cheek. Herding them out of the room, she gave him a little smile and turned and walked away._  


_Brahms listened to the hard pounding of little feet on the stairs until a familiar voice said, “They're something, aren't they?” _  


_He immediately looked over at the mirror on the wall and his mirror twin stood there, arms folded and smiling. Brahms struggled to his feet with only one arm and walked over to him._  


_“Why did you let me--”_  


_“Because I was wrong about you.” Mirror Brahms looked ashamed and glanced away, his tone going gruff. “I only knew what you knew. So when you thought you were a murderer, I believed you were one. I'm sorry.”_  


_ “It's all right. I fooled myself, too.” Brahms heaved a sigh and looked around the room, wondering if he'd ever be able to have a life with Penny just like this one. Well, not just like this one, it would have to be similar; his Penny wasn't pregnant with twins._  


_ “You're going to be fine,” Mirror Brahms said quietly. “Stop worrying.”_  


_ “Don't you know how hard it is to stop worrying?” Brahms snapped. To his surprise, his mirror only laughed at him instead of taking issue with his tone._  


_ “I do. Some nights I lay awake worrying that something will happen to my girls. Like what if I'm too late picking them up from school and someone's already snatched them? Or while playing outside, one of them runs out in the road after a ball and they're hit by a car?” All laughter was gone from his voice as he spoke, his eyes going sad. “I'd die if anything happened to them. I know I would. You're going to bond with your child the same way; I'm you and you're me after all. You won't turn into your parents.”_  


_Hearing someone say it, especially someone who knew the inside of him so well helped lift a weight off of his shoulders. He knew he was going to make parenting mistakes, but they'd be manageable ones like letting someone eat too much ice cream until they were sick. He wasn't going to horribly traumatize anyone or believe a sociopathic killer over them. Maybe he should give himself more credit, as Anna was fond of telling him._  


_ “How's your arm?” Penny came back into the room and went straight to his side, her forehead wrinkled with concern._  


_Brahms looked into the mirror but there was only a reflection there. “It's fine. Thanks.”_  


_Penny searched his face a moment and then whispered, “It's you, isn't it. The other one.” _  


_Of course she knew now. The other Brahms couldn't very well leave her in the dark after coming out of a mirror with a knife in his shoulder. So Brahms nodded._  


_Penny's eyes filled with tears and she lightly gripped his chin between her thumb and index finger. “Thank you,” she said brokenly. Her tears spilled. “Thank you for making sure he got home to me.” Brahms found he couldn't answer and could only nod. She drew in a shuddering breath and continued, “You have your own Penny now? You were able to find her?”  
_

__

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_ “Yes,” he whispered._  


_She gave him her sparkly-eyed smile. “Good. So, uh... what's she like? The other Penny. Is she better than me?” She said it jokingly but he could tell that she still expected an answer._  


_Brahms hesitated and said lowly, “Well, my Penny wears corsets.”_  


_Penny's jaw dropped. “Seriously? Would Brahms like--”_  


_ “He would.”_  


_ “Hmmph. I'll think about it.”_  


_Brahms laughed and then in the blink of an eye_  


He came awake on the sofa quite suddenly, snorting loudly. Bleary-eyed he sat up and was startled when the book on his chest went tumbling to the floor. _How to be a First-Time Dad!_ He picked it up and set it on the coffee table, snatching up his phone. He saw it was three a.m. and that he'd missed a text from Penny at midnight, simply telling him good night and that she loved him.  


He realized immediately that the dream he'd just had would be the last glimpse he ever got of the other Brahms' life and he was completely fine with that. His own life was going to be so wonderful, he'd probably have to keep numerous other Brahmses from alternate worlds from dipping in to have a peek. The thought made him laugh and he quickly texted: _Love you more than anything in this world, Pen, goodnight_

~*~

By mid-January, Brahms was already sick of everything. He still had therapy twice a week and hadn't had a nightmare since before Christmas. There was still stuff to work on and it all just felt so hopeless, that he would be stuck in this “almost there” rut where he wasn't going to get any closer to his life finally starting. He'd been a bear all day, growling at Mildred until she'd finally slammed a book down on the table and ordered him upstairs because she wasn't going to be spoken to so rudely in her own house.  


Now Brahms had stripped down and decided to take a shower, hoping to wash all the bad feelings off of him and down the drain. He'd considered a bath for a moment since those were very comforting but a huge cavern of pain opened inside of him, thinking of being in a tub without Penny, and so he'd decided on the shower.  


He stood under the water for a bit, eyes closed, and did some slow breathing exercises. That helped calm him down a bit. Then kind of mindlessly he grabbed his cock and started to slowly stroke it.  


Anna had suggested months ago, after he told her about his assault, that he try different fantasies while pleasuring himself. She suggested that he picture Penny on top of him while they had sex, to try to unlearn the fear he felt instinctively for that position. He'd given it a try a few times but each time he'd gone instantly limp just thinking about it. Well, he was starting from a limp position to begin with so why not give it a try now?  


As he stroked, he worked on the scenario in his mind. He thought back to New Years Eve, when Mildred had gotten them tickets for a big do at a local castle. Penny had worn her blue dress again, the one she'd worn on their first date, and had her hair professionally styled, all piled on her head in spills of curls, threaded with pearls. She'd looked like a storybook princess. The evening had been anything but storybook, however. The string quartet hired to play weren't very good and some friend of Mildred's kept harassing Penny for not drinking any of the expensive champagne; the woman wouldn't shut up even after it was explained to her that Penny was pregnant and couldn't imbibe. Penny had gotten a headache and they'd gone home well before midnight. Brahms began the new year by himself on the sofa, watching people party on the telly.  


In his mind, he changed things. The party was still in the castle but the lights were dimmer, sexier. Many couples close to their age were there, all dancing with masks on their faces. The music played slow and soft as Penny held his hand tightly, leading him through the room. She looked back over her shoulder at him, eyes sparkling with promise.  


They found a quiet room behind a curtain, dark except for the chinese lanterns hanging outside the window. He could just hear the faint murmuring of the party-goers but they didn't hold his attention as Penny lightly traced her fingertips along his jaw.  


“Happy New Year, baby,” she whispered and pressed her mouth to his. His arms wrapped around her waist and he eagerly parted his lips for her tongue. They kissed for long, exquisite minutes until he thought he was going to come right then but Penny broke the kiss and pushed him gently until the backs of his legs found the end of a fainting couch. He sat and his hands reached eagerly for her.  


“No touching. Not yet,” she said in a soft sing song. She reached behind her for the catches of her dress and then let the fabric fall down her front. She was in her corset and Brahms grabbed for her again, only for her to shake her head at him, her smile wide and teasing. She pushed the dress down over her hips and down to her feet where she kicked it away. She wasn't wearing any knickers. Her smooth, soft pussy was on display as she crossed over to him in her stockings and high heels.  


“Please,” Brahms breathed, reaching for her yet again.  


“Well, since you asked so nicely...” Penny clambered into his lap, straddling his hips. He went still and started to feel cold but then, “Here. Kiss me.” She lifted her left breast up out of the corset and brought it to his mouth. Eagerly, he sucked her nipple into his mouth and teased the tip with his tongue. Her breathing got more erratic as she moved against him, her hand going between them to open his trousers. She tipped her head to the side and moaned when he lifted his hands up to shift her corset around, revealing her other breast and suckling hard on it until she whimpered.  


Somehow, she managed to free his cock from the confines of his clothes and directed him right where she wanted him to be. He slid inside her hot, velvety soft pussy and grunted, rocking his hips up into her. She was wet, god so wet, he couldn't believe how...  


With a long, slow moan, Brahms came so hard, he slumped forward and had to brace his arm against the shower wall to keep from falling. He stood there trembling a little, twitching through the aftershocks. He became aware of his surroundings, that the shower spray was still pounding down on him but the temperature was much cooler.  


“Fuck,” he breathed. He'd done it. Maybe he wouldn't be able to do it again anytime soon but he'd successfully came while picturing Penny riding him. It would be easier next time, maybe he wouldn't even have that moment of hesitation. But it was one step closer to where he wanted to be.

~*~

Brahms sat out in his car, staring up at the poky little house so similar to the other houses on the street. There wasn't much yard to speak of but there was a nice little flowerbed next to the front porch that someone obviously put some time and effort into. Nothing was currently blooming, seeing as how it was February. All the same, it looked like a cheerful house.  


Drawing in a breath, he undid his seat belt and unfolded out of the car. As he closed the door, a pair of boys rode by on bikes and one shouted at him, “Hey mister, it ain't Halloween!” They laughed uproariously and went around the corner. He huffed out a laugh. The little shits. He adjusted the mask on the burned side of his face and wondered what their reactions would have been seeing his burns.  


He quickly walked up the short driveway to the porch and up the three steps. Before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked briskly on the door. Immediately a dog started barking inside.  


“Quiet, you!” a familiar voice said. It sounded like a storybook narrator, no longer husky and damaged. The door cracked open and a woman with a child on her hip stared at him blankly a moment before recognition kicked in. “Oh!”  


Lilah was beautiful. Well, not quite. But she was striking. She no longer looked defeated, the depressed cast over her eyes completely gone. In fact, her eyes practically shone. She'd put on a bit of weight, filling her face out so she looked nourished and softer, though she was still quite slender. Most lovely of all was her hair. She'd stopped with the black hair dye and Brahms saw now that she had a lovely chestnut color with just a few threads of gray in her bangs.  


“Hello,” Brahms said, not knowing what else to say.  


“Yes,” Lilah said and then flushed rather prettily, making her look a few years younger. “Um. I mean, hello. Brahms, I- I hardly recognized you.”  


He raised an eyebrow. “Me? I hardly recognized _you_. You look well.”  


Lilah smiled a little. “Thank you. I am. How did you find me if you don't mind me asking?”  


“My aunt has an uncanny knack for locating people,” Brahms answered. “She was an investigative journalist back in the day.” He nodded to the blonde child she was holding, who was chewing on their fist and watching him with great interest. “Who's this, then?”  


Lilah beamed at the child. “This is my niece, Renata. Can you say hello, Renata?”  


Renata didn't seem to wish to and turned her face away into her aunt's shoulder. Lilah laughed and patted her on the back. “She spends the day at the child minder's and I pick her up as soon as I wake. I'm back as a nurse; I work the graveyard shift. I go in as soon as my sister comes back from her job. It works out rather well.”  


“Good, I'm glad to hear it.” Brahms nodded and added, “I'm... expecting a child myself. In August.”  


“You and Penny?” Lilah asked. When he nodded she said, “That's wonderful, Brahms, I'm so pleased for you. Congratulations.”  


Brahms cleared his throat uncomfortably. It was so weird and yet so heartening how much she'd changed. “Anyway, I only wanted to see how you were. I was hoping you'd be well.”  


“I am. You look good, too, you know. You don't slouch or look frightened. And your hair's very nice.” Lilah smiled kindly at him. “Are you talking to anyone?”  


“Yes. You?”  


“Yes.” She bounced Renata when the child started to fuss. “I was skeptical but my sister insisted that I go and recommended a lovely woman who specialized in domestic violence. It's made all the difference, though. I can actually sleep through the night now.”  


“Me too,” Brahms replied.  


Lilah's eyes were warm and lovely as she said, “Good. I'm glad, Brahms. You deserve to be at peace.”  


“I think I am. Or at least I'm close to it.” He took a step back as Renata started to wail. “I've taken up enough of your time. Better see to the little one.”  


“She's just getting fussy since it's almost time for her mum to be home. Thank you for stopping by, Brahms. Give my best to Penny.”  


Brahms nodded. “Will do. Goodbye, Lilah.”  


“Goodbye.” She closed the door as Renata wound up for a good shriek.  


He stood there a moment and then started to smile. The Lilah he'd known was gone. It was hard to be haunted by a specter that had no interest in haunting. His smile widening, he dashed down the steps and across the yard. Once behind the wheel, he got his phone out and dialed Mildred. It was time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "funny dance" is a dance my brother used to do when he was a kid and it's immediately what I picture if someone's described as dancing in a funny or outlandish way. Not to be confused with the traditional Japanese heron dance that's beautiful and culturally significant.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, here's the last chapter! Sorry for the long wait.

Penny curled up on the sofa, bawling as she watched _How to Make an American Quilt_ and felt like she'd earned a long deferred treat. She'd been brave all week, taking conference calls with Matthew and his new co-author Andrew Patel and showing them sketches for their new middle-grade mystery series, she'd taken her car in for a tune-up and had called the employee on his bullshit when he tried to tell her that her brand-new tires were nearly bald, she'd had a doctor's appointment and found out her little baby was doing fine, and she'd been able to keep a big smile on her face when two of her college friends called to tell her they were expecting as well. And their husbands were thrilled. She had told herself that if she could get through the week without crying, she'd get to indulge in one huge sobbing, snot-filled cry-fest on Valentine's day. She bought her favorite ice cream in preparation and a white silk nightie so she could at least feel sexy while she cried her eyes out, watching one of her favorite “girl” movies.  


Fucking Brahms and his fucking issues. The last couple of days, he had only answered her texts with single word responses. She'd been expecting to hear something a little more substantial than “oh” when she'd told him about the doctor's visit in which she'd found out their baby's gender. Dads were supposed to care about that thing! His uninterested response made her so angry, she decided she wasn't going to tell him what they were having unless he specifically asked. Dick head.  


With a hiccuping sob, Penny scooped her spoon back into her Ben & Jerry's strawberry cheesecake ice cream and imagined wrenching her ring off her finger and flinging it into Brahms's face. She'd never do it but the shock on his face would be _so delicious_.  


She hadn't been able to get Emily on the phone, either. It felt unfair to be upset with her best friend, especially since Em was probably just making plans with Bobby for Valentine's Day but god damn it, she was pregnant and hormonal and maybe she wanted a little sympathy! Was that too much to ask?! She kicked a magazine off of the coffee table and let out a furious little scream.  


A part of her was appalled at how she was acting but mostly it felt like a huge relief. She'd been a responsible adult for long enough. It was nice to devote a day to being sulky and petty, to just dig down deep into her misery and roll in it instead of acting like those darker feelings weren't there.  


Someone knocked on the door and Penny straightened up in alarm. Oh, shit. Oh, shit, it wasn't... it was probably Chris. She winced and set her ice cream down on the coffee table. He'd been coming around lately, offering help if she needed it. It had been really tempting to accept but she'd turned him down, telling him that she wasn't ready to be friends with him. Then she'd leveled with him and said that she didn't think she could ever be friends with him. He'd nodded and said he understood but maybe he was back to make another huge gesture to win her back. Even telling him she was pregnant with another man's child hadn't put him off. They'd broken up in the first place because he didn't want kids! Suddenly kids weren't a big deal?! She didn't think she was ever going to understand men.  


The someone knocked on the door again and Penny stood up, wiping her cold, trembling hands on her nightie. It wasn't Ben. She'd started seeing a therapist every couple of weeks and they'd managed to work on her fear so that she didn't always assume Ben was after her. Her heart still pounded like crazy when someone was at the door, even if she was expecting a delivery or a visit from a friend, but she no longer felt the need to hide.  


Before they could knock again, Penny hurried to the door and looked into the peephole. She gasped so hard she coughed and then quickly threw the locks and opened the door so wide, it slammed against the wall.  


There on her porch stood Brahms Heelshire, suitcase by his feet and flowers in hand. His smile slid off his face at the sight of her. “Pen? What's wrong?”  


“You fucking asshole,” she sobbed and launched herself into his arms.  


He held her tightly. “Penny, why are you crying?”  


“Because I hate you,” she said, pressing her face into his collar.  


“I'm sorry,” he whispered in her ear, kissing her softly. “Should I leave?”  


“No,” she snuffled, lifting her head. At the end of her driveway were Emily and Bobby, standing next to their car, watching this little reunion. She wiped her eyes. “Why're they here?”  


“I wanted to surprise you,” Brahms said, looking at her worriedly. “Emily picked me up at the airport and brought me here.”  


Penny's eyes spilled over again and she took a step back. “I texted you about the baby and you didn't care.”  


His face fell. “Oh, darling, I'm sorry. I was worried if I talked to you, I'd let the secret slip. And I wanted you to tell me in person what we're having. I wasn't thinking about how that would look to you, I'm so sorry.”  


“Em's bad at keeping secrets from me. I guess that's why she hasn't been talking to me, either.” She sniffled and waved to Emily, who waved back while hugging her own boyfriend's arm. “It's been a lonely couple of days, though.”  


“Well, I'm here to make it up to you,” Brahms swore, holding out the flowers. Once again, he'd chosen blossoms of all her favorite colors and Penny gladly accepted the bouquet. Then she grabbed his hand and tugged him into the house.  


Brahms scooped up his suitcase and followed her inside. He looked around in interest at her modest but nicely decorated house while she got a vase and filled it with water for her flowers. It was the smallest house he'd ever been in; the hotel room had at least been very luxurious.  


“There,” she said, walking into the living room with her flowers. “I know the perfect place for these.” She walked them over to the coffee table and placed them smack dab in the middle, nudging aside the remote control. Murmuring in annoyance, she grabbed the remote and paused her movie. “Do you want to sit down? I can get you something to eat or drink if you want.”  


Brahms flopped down onto the couch and opened his arms. “Come here.”  


Smiling, Penny went to him and sat down in his lap. She cuddled against him, pressing her head to his chest. She could hear the beating of his heart and the sloshing of his insides which probably should have been gross but didn't bother her. They didn't speak for awhile, just sat there breathing and absorbing the comfort that each drew from the other, his hand making slow passes over her hair.  


“Ah,” he said suddenly, startling her. She raised her head to frown at him as he dug his phone out of his pocket. “I was meaning to mention this to you: we never finished your interview.”  


“My inter--” Her frown deepened until she remembered. “Oh my god, my interview. Yeah. I thought that was just an excuse to meet me?”  


He pouted at her, making her laugh at how absurd he looked. “Of course it was, but I took it very seriously, you know. I've already sold the interview to a magazine, I just needed to ask one more question and then I can edit it into the article and send it off to the editor.”  


“You really wrote a whole article about me?” Penny asked, touched.  


“I did. Very gushing and glowing. It'll be in April's issue of _Education Magazine_. Just in time to promote Matthew's book which is out in May, yes?”  


Penny rested her head on his shoulder, looking up at him adoringly. “Yes.”  


“Good. Now, do you mind if I record this?”  


“Not at all,” she said, holding in a giggle.  


Brahms pushed a button on his phone and then said. “Ms. Beech, I've heard from a very reliable source that you're pregnant. Congratulations! Would you mind sharing if you're having a boy or girl?”  


“Not at all,” Penny said softly. She kissed him and said, “I'm having a little boy. I hope he's as beautiful as his father.”

~*~

His breath caught in his throat. _A little boy_. Penny was carrying a little boy. He tried to imagine what the child would look like and could only imagine himself when he'd been small. When he'd been eight and frightened, upset that no one believed in him, made to live apart from his parents. He vowed then and there that this child was never going to doubt his love. He'd be an embarrassing, loving dad until the boy entered sixth form and Penny would have to tell him to stop giving him big hugs in front of his mates.  


“Oh, Pen.” Brahms turned off the recorder and set his phone aside. He stood up with her in his arms. “Where's your bedroom?”  


Penny's eyes sparkled. “Upstairs. Are you going to carry me the whole way?”  


“Yes.” He strode out of the living room toward the creaking stairs. The walls were decorated with photos of Penny and her grandmother, a few of Emily, and paused at a large painting on the landing. She must have drawn it from memory, he knew he hadn't posed for it. In the painting, he stared out unflinchingly though he wasn't wearing his mask. His hands were casually in the pockets of his jeans, his white long-sleeved undershirt rolled to his elbows, a few buttons undone to expose the chest hair Penny liked so much. His dark curls tumbled over his forehead and a smile hovered at the corners of his mouth. “When did you do this?”  


“I finished it about a month ago,” Penny said quietly. “I had time. The drawings I'm doing now don't need to be as detailed and won't be colored. I missed you so I drew you.”  


Moved, Brahms swallowed. Then he said lightly, “Am I really that foxy?”  


Penny giggled and swatted his shoulder. “Take me to bed and I'll let you know.”  


With a growl, Brahms hefted her up higher, making her squeak, and dashed the remaining set of stairs in a few bounds.

~*~

Penny was still giggling as he kicked her bedroom door open and dumped her onto the bed. First things first, he took off his mask and tossed it dismissively over his shoulder. She sat up eagerly as he began unzipping his jacket. She admired his hands as he made quick work of undressing. His fingers were so long and elegant, she always imagined them on piano keys though more often than not they were tweaking her nipples or sliding between her legs. She shivered as he worked his sweater up over his head, revealing the long-sleeved undershirt she'd painted him wearing. But all the same...  


“Why did you put on like thirty layers?” Penny asked a little impatiently.  


He grinned at her. “'It's winter, isn't it?”  


She bit her lip to keep from giggling. “Well, fine,” she said a little airily. “While you're doing that, I guess I'll get undressed, too...” She reached under her nightie and hooked a finger through the waistband of the flimsy underwear she had on and dragged them over her hips and down her legs. She leaned back on her elbows once her underwear were around her ankles and kicked them off. Brahms was staring at her now, eyes wide, barely breathing.  


Keeping eye contact with him, she sat up straight and began to inch the nightgown up her thighs. She was a little startled when he suddenly growled and then began tearing the rest of his clothes off. He worked in a frenzy, no more smooth elegance, and Penny waited until he was pushing his boxer shorts and jeans off together to pull her nightgown off over her head.  


She'd barely cleared her head of the neck hole when he was upon her, kissing her hungrily. “I thought of you every second,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “Every second of every fucking day, thinking of your eyes, your mouth, your tits, the way you say my name...”  


“Brahms!” Penny gasped as his hand cupped her between her legs.  


He hummed in approval. “Yeah, like that. I thought of you how wet you get here... All those times on the phone when we'd imagine being together never quite did the trick, did it? You needed me. Just as much as I needed you.” He dipped his middle finger inside her, sinking in to his knuckle. “Penny...”  


“Unh!” She gripped the comforter tightly in her fists as he began to rub her clit gently and rhythmically with his thumb. She rode his hand, whimpering, so close already she just needed... needed... When his hot mouth closed over her nipple she wailed and clamped her thighs together, coming on his finger.  


The annoyances of the week and her months long loneliness were nothing in this moment. He was here. She felt fantastic. She was... being pulled upright. Through her blissed out haze, she realized Brahms was settling her in his lap and cuddling her, nuzzling her neck. She could only smile and wrap her arms around his neck as he started kissing her, making his teasing way to the spot on her neck that always made her--  


Wait.  


She was in his lap. Straddling him.  


Penny gasped and started to lift off of him, apologizing. She stilled when his arms tightened around her and he whispered in her ear, “Penny, I'm fine. I promise. Look. Look at me.”  


She stopped fighting and pulled back from his embrace a little bit. He was smiling at her, no sign of distress at all. His cock was still erect, brushing against his stomach. His hands stroked low on her back and then down to cup her ass.  


“Wanna ride me?” he asked, his voice in that hot honey register that instantly made her ten times wetter.  


“Yes,” Penny whispered. She rose up on her knees and carefully grasped his cock, guiding it to her entrance. When he was lined up properly, she waited until his eyes were on hers and then lowered herself until he was completely inside her. “Oh...”  


“Are you all right?” Brahms asked, his breathing ragged.  


Her pussy was already fluttering, desperately wanting to come. “Are you?” she asked, wanting to make sure.  


He nodded and leaned forward for a slow, wet kiss that Penny lost herself in, arms twining around his neck as she ground in his lap, not lifting up just yet. She wanted to stay connected to him, they'd both been apart for so long. When he broke the kiss, he kept his forehead pressed to hers, panting.  


Penny took this as her cue and began to rise and fall on his cock, watching him carefully for any sign that he regretted this, that he was too uncomfortable. But Brahms met her gaze with hooded eyes, grunting with each downstroke as his fingers dug into her ass cheeks, guiding her up and down along his length.  


“You're so beautiful,” she breathed. She kissed the burned half of his face. “I love you so much.” They'd always been a little rough when they had sex, almost like Brahms was trying to prove something, that he wasn't the timid boy hiding in the walls anymore. He was a man who could fuck hard and talk dirty. No one was taking advantage of him, he was the dominant one. But now, he'd surrendered control to her and she could rock on him and say all the things in her heart.  


She let his curls wrap around her fingers and gently combed through them as she whispered in his ear, still riding him. “I wanted you every single day, Brahms. I don't ever want to be apart from you again. I love you.” She gently bit down his earlobe and he let out a shuddering sigh as he held her in place and came deep inside of her. He buried his face between her breasts and his hot breath was enough to give her a little shivery orgasm of her own.  


Finally, he raised his face and for a moment she was horrified when she saw tears glistening on his cheeks. But then he smiled, something so bright that momentarily dazzled her. “When do you want to marry me?” he asked, the last thing in the world she was expecting.  


“June,” she said, going with the first month that came to mind.  


“Done.” And he lifted her off of his cock and nestled them down under the covers, pulling her close. He spooned her while leaving sloppy, soft kisses over her shoulders that tickled a little but she wasn't about to tell him to stop anytime soon.  


Instead, she drifted to sleep with his hand pressed possessively on her tummy thinking of a summer wedding and a sweet little baby a few months later. She was about to get everything she'd ever wanted and even more, because she would be sharing it with Brahms. The man who'd fought so many personal battles to be by her side. He was here because he wanted to be, something he'd always dreamed of and longed for. Penny smiled.

~*~

_Roughly Eight Years Later_

  
Aaron gazed out the window and put his phone away. They were getting close to the house and he didn't want to miss anything his parents said. The house was one he'd never been to but had heard about all his life. It was something his parents talked about from time to time, whispering together in the kitchen about what they planned to do with “the house.” It sounded like a wild animal the way they talked about it. _The house_. Like it was evil. It was sure making Dad nervous, clutching the steering wheel with both hands. Usually he drove with one hand, the other on Mom's thigh. Instead, Mom was the one touching, pressing a hand to Dad's knee.  


As if she sensed Aaron's scrutiny, Mom turned to look at him between the seats. “Hey, buddy. We're almost there.”  


He nodded. His GPS had told him the same thing. She seemed like she had more she wanted to say though so he waited, watching her. She didn't look too happy either, but she was better at hiding it than Dad.  


“There isn't going to be any wifi or TV there so it's gonna be pretty boring. We won't stay long, though. Aunt Mildred will be there so you and Ems can catch up with her.” Mom glanced over at his sister, sleeping in her child seat with her head down, dark blonde hair obscuring her face. “Maybe she can even take you guys with her to Cornwall while we finish up on our own...”  


“We'll stay,” Aaron said.  


Mom smiled at him in that way he liked, as if he'd just said exactly what she'd hoped he'd say. “We'll at least go into town for pizza. It'll be fine.”  


Aaron nodded. “Okay.”  


Mom turned back around and Dad reached for her hand to clutch it for dear life. Up ahead, the house was coming into view. The pulled up along a creepy black fence that looked like something from the Addams Family. When the car came to a stop, Ems murmured and lifted her head, blinking sleepily.  


“Are we there?” she asked, her voice loud for the quiet car.  


“We are,” Dad said tightly.  


They all got out and Dad collected Ems from her seat and carried her over to where Aaron stood with Mom's arm around his shoulders. They stared up at the house that was big but seemed to grow bigger the more you looked at it. He kind of got why his parents were so keyed up about this place.  


“It doesn't have a very nice face,” Ems said from her perch on Dad's hip.  


Dad kissed her temple. “No, it doesn't, has it.” He looked down at Aaron. “What do you think, son?”  


“I'm totally cool with you guys selling this place for my college fund,” Aaron said.  


To Aaron's relief, Dad chuckled and reached over to muss Aaron's dark brown curls. “I'm glad you approve. Once we have everything packed up we can put the house for sale, so let's get it done fast, eh?”  


Aaron nodded and Dad smoothed Aaron's hair down more gently, a fierce look of love in his eyes. Not really knowing how to respond, Aaron reached up for his dad's hand on his head and gave it an awkward pat. _Okay, thanks, but enough's enough._  


Dad laughed quietly and looked back up at the house just as the door opened. Mildred came out onto the porch and called out, “Hello, my darlings!”  


“Aunt Millie!” Ems cried out and wriggled until Dad set her on her feet. Ems ran through the gate and up the porch steps. Aaron followed after, holding a hand out carefully in case she took a spill.  


Mildred hugged them tightly. “Oh! You've both gotten so big!”  


“I've grown one and three quarters inches since you last saw me!” Em said proudly.  


“I can tell,” Mildred replied. She turned to Aaron and stroked his face. “Hello, love.”  


“Hi, Millie.” He tilted his face up for the kiss she left on his cheek.  


Ems turned to frown over at their parents who still stood outside the gate, hand in hand and staring up at the house. “Why are they just standing there?”  


“They'll come in when they're ready.” Mildred's eyes were sad but she forced herself to cheer up when she saw Aaron watching her carefully. “There's biscuits in the kitchen if you're hungry.”  


“Bread biscuits or real biscuits?” Ems asked.  


Mildred laughed. “Real.”  


“Oooh!” Ems grabbed Mildred's and Aaron's hands and started tugging them into the house. “Come on!”  


Aaron hesitated, looking back out at his parents who still looked worried.  


“Aaron, my love, give them a moment,” Mildred said gently.  


They allowed themselves to be tugged into the house by an eager Ems who didn't let much stand in the way between her and biscuits.

~*~

Finally, they worked up their nerve and followed Mildred and the kids inside. The house didn't feel as dark and oppressive as they remembered. A lot of the furniture was gone, having sold for auction, so maybe that helped. Or maybe enough years had passed since they'd last been here.  


“We'll do this fast,” Penny said, wrapping her arms around Brahms's waist. “It won't be so bad.”  


“No?” Brahms asked, looking up at the portrait on the stairs. A small version of him that looked a bit like Aaron stared back at him, unaware of what was waiting for him in just a few short years.  


Penny's embrace tightened. “No. You have your family with you this time. You're not alone, Brahms.”  


He looked down at her, smiling. “No, I'm not. Not ever again.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Let's see what Mildred has waiting for us.”  


They followed the sound of Ems's voice into the kitchen. The room they left was silent. The mirror on the wall reflected the empty room then suddenly flickered. Two blonde girls appeared in the glass, staring in and then giggling before turning and running away. The mirror flickered again and then reflected the quiet Heelshire house once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Unfortunately, this is going to be my last fanfic for awhile. I'm focusing on original writing right now and I'm planning out a series. May as well take all the time I have quarantined to get stories outlined and written! I've got a notebook full of notes and I'm really excited. I'll miss Brahms, though, the weird bastard. <3


End file.
